Only You
by DoseofReality
Summary: LSM RevanBastila. A more in depth look at the relationship between the former Dark Lord of the Sith and his female Jedi companion. Follows general story line of KOTOR, done for the moment.
1. Chapter 1

Hey everybody! This is my first Star Wars fic, and I could use all the help I can get. I loved Kotor, and Kotor II: Sith Lords, but I'm not a fanatic (as in completing every side quest and finding every dialogue option), so I may be a little off in some areas. Forgive me if I stray somewhat, this is just my little two cents on the relationship between Revan and Bastila.

Sadly, I've found that there is an abysmally small amount of Revan/Bastila stories where Revan is an actual MAN. Not that I don't like some of the stories out there with Revan as a girl, but I prefer the good old fashioned boy/girl pair ups. So, on to the details of the story.

Vincent (who is actually Revan, he just doesn't know it yet) is a light side Jedi. This story starts off on Dantooine, when the characters are searching the ruins that Revan and Malak entered.

**Note: This chapter has been revised. For all who have already read this chapter, it has new content. For all who haven't read it, ignore this note. You get to see the better version of this chapter! (It was just so bad...I _had_ to fix it)**

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Vincent stepped up to the massive door that blocked the entrance to the ruins. A small flashback of the vision he had came to his mind, and he gripped his lightsaber tightly in his hand. He didn't like this. Something was out of place here, something...dark. It was faint, but recognized the imprint that the Sith Lord had made. 

"You feel it?" he asked, directing the question to the woman on his right.

She nodded. "Yes. Revan and Malak left a strong mark on this place."

"Not to intrude, but what _are_ you talking about?" the other man asked.

Vincent felt a small smile form on his face. "Revan and Malak left a Force imprint of this place. Bastila and I can feel it, almost like a dark presence."

"Oh," the man said. "Well I guess that makes sense..."

"No problem, Carth. I know that we haven't been able to tell you what's going on around here."

"It's just that I feel so...helpless. You've got a lightsaber and Force powers, and here I am, sitting on my ass, doing absolutely nothing of value," Carth admitted.

"That's not true. You saved my life once already, and I have no doubt you'll do it again soon. Besides, you don't have to be a Jedi to be useful Carth. You can hold your own in a fight, no problem! Who said you need Force powers to kick ass?" Vincent countered.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But I'm wasting your time; we should get back to what we were doing."

Turning back to the stone door, he stood in thought for a moment. "Hmm...Bastila?" The female Jedi stepped closer to him, and he turned. "What do you think is inside? Besides the Star Map, I mean."

"I can't help you with that Vincent, I'm sorry. I know as little about these ruins as you do. Anything could be in there."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he muttered, moving to open the door. The immense structure slid open with a loud scraping noise, stirring up a cloud of dust. He waited for the dust to settle before moving inside and inspecting the area. It was dry and cool inside; There was a lone droid before him, and it seemed to be shut off. The body of a Jedi lay freshly slain on the ground to the droid's right, and three other doors were present in the room. The two doors that were to the left and right of the droid seemed to have been disturbed recently, but the door behind it looked untouched. As Vincent stepped up to the droid, it spoke in an alien dialect that he couldn't understand.

"I didn't understand any of that."

The droid spoke again, this time in an equally unfamiliar tongue.

"Sorry, I still don't understand you."

This time when the droid spoke, it made sense. Though it was still speaking in an alien language, all three of the people in the room understood it.

"It seems to be speaking an archaic variant of the Selkath language," Bastila said somewhat surprised.

"How would it know that?" Vincent asked perplexed. Bastila shook her head. Directing his attention to the droid, he asked it a few questions. It was quite uneventful until he discovered something about having to pass the tests of the two doors to his left and right.

"Ok, so I just go in there, pass these tests and that door behind him opens. Simple. C'mon, let's get this over with."

The door on the right revealed an ancient battle droid that seemed to be guarding the terminal behind it. At the moment, it seemed to be inactive, but Vincent remembered that the other droid had been 'sleeping' as well. Readying his lightsaber, he walked ahead of the group, all senses on alert. Without warning, the battle droid suddenly fired a single plasma bolt. Vincent's mind registered that it was going to miss him, which he thought was odd, but he quickly realized that the droid wasn't aiming for him - it meant to hit his friends. His saber ignited with a snap hiss and he thrust his weapon out to the side, easily deflecting the bolt back at the droid.

Carth fired a couple of shots at the machine, but with little effect; the droid's shields, though ancient, were quite powerful and immune to most forms of attack, including the Jedi's lightsabers. Its blaster was relatively easy to deflect, and Vincent was beginning to believe that the droid posed little threat with such meager weapons when it suddenly shot out a silver beam that hit him squarely in the chest. He felt all of his limbs slowly growing heavy, and all he could do was watch helplessly as Bastila and Carth attempted to tackle the droid on their own.

"This isn't working!" the female Jedi exclaimed.

"Try ion grenades," Vincent said from the spot to which he was now frozen.

"I don't have any!" she yelled back.

"Move!" Carth yelled and hurled two grenades at the battle droid. The weapons had their desired effect, as the droid sparked with a surge of electricity and slumped to the ground. A few minutes later, Vincent was finally free, and he walked over to the still smoking droid. His blade hummed through the air as he swung at the machine's head, removing it easily without the droid's shields in place. Wiping the sweat from his eyes, he walked over to the now unguarded terminal and studied it for a long moment before decinding on a button to push.

Once again the language barrier reared its ugly head, as he was unable to read the writing which the terminal displayed. Feeling decidedly stupid, but out of options, he chose to talk to the computer. It was silent for a moment, and then let out a lone beep that his data pad mimicked. Inserting his data pad into a receptacle in the terminal, he waited. Within a few seconds, words appeared on the screen in the form of a question.

"WHAT ARE THE THREE PRIMARY DEATH BRINGING SEEDS?"

"Death bringing seeds – huh?" More words appeared on his data pad. They read: ARBOREAL, VOLCANIC, GRASSLAND, DESERT, OCEANIC, BARREN.

"I get it," he said to himself. Bastila and Carth were watching intently, and he turned to them. "Which of these will not support life?"

"Volcanic won't," Carth said.

"Nor will the desert or a barren wasteland," Bastila finished.

He smiled. "Exactly. Those are the three death bringing seeds."

The next room proved just as difficult with another battle droid. They followed the battle in the same manner, chipping away at the droid's shield's while damaging it with ion grenades and anything else they could come up with. Unfortunately, the machine proved to be quite resiliant. The droid also had the power to immobilize its enemies, and it did so with a vigor. Carth was frozen twice in succession, while Vincent narrowly missed being hit again by rolling quickly out of the way. Almost too late, he realized the droid was charging up for another attack, this time, aimed directly at Bastila, who was too preoccupied with trying to free Carth to notice.

Using a burst of Force speed, he sprinted at her as fast as he could, shoving his lightsaber out in front of him in the hopes that it would at least dampen the attack. The silver beam slammed forcefully into his right arm, numbing it immediately and rendering it completely useless. The beam knifed across his torso and paralyzed his left leg, sending him crashing to the ground with a loud "**_thump_**."

Vincent felt something in his right shoulder give way and he grunted in as a fiery wave of agony washed over him. Apparently, the beam hadn't numbed _all_ of his right arm. Twisting around, he managed to work himself into a sitting position just in time to see the droid's shields go down. Balancing shakily on one knee, Vincent called his lightsaber to his left hand and took aim, letting his blue blade sail toward his now defenseless enemy. His saber tore through the droid's metal plating and kept going, slicing the machine in two at the exact same time that Bastila let loose with a good sized barrage of lightning. The battle droid sparked for a minute before a electricity surrounded it in a brilliant display of blue and white, causing the machine to explode into a burning heap of scrap metal.

All three friends were motionless for a moment, each in a state of shock. Bastila was the first to break out of it, jogging quickly over to Vincent to help him up.

"Are you alright?"

"AH! NOT _that_ shoulder!" he cried out when she attempted to pull him up by his right arm. She quickly muttered "sorry" and moved around to his left, extending her hand and waiting. He reached up and gripped it firmly, his larger hand practically engulfing hers as she tried to get him to his feet.

Carth, meanwhile, was watching the scene with a knowing smile on his face.

"Could you please try to support _some_ of your own weight?" Bastila asked in exasperation.

"I have one leg at the moment, thank you!" Vincent growled back. "It's not my fault you're so damn tiny...OW! You did that on purpose!"

"I did not!"

"She hit me!"

Bastila threw an elbow into his unprotected ribcage, causing him to yelp again. "Now I hit you. Happy?"

Vincent glared and attempted to hobble over to the terminal but with little success. "Why aren't we moving?"

"Because I _can't_."

"I'm not that heavy!"

"I beg to differ. Your other leg better come back soon or we'll be here all day," she retorted.

"Carth, maybe you could stop grinning like an idiot over there and help us?" Vincent asked, finding humor in their situation.

"Sorry. Watching you two act like an old married couple is just too good to pass up," the Republic soldier said as he gently supported Vincent's right side.

"Bastila..." Vincent said quietly.

She knew what he was about to ask. "I can't. I used the rest of my Force powers to try and disable that droid."

"And we don't have any medipacs?"

Both Carth and Bastila shook their heads. "It's going to be a long trip back to the Enclave," he sighed. "Carth, I could use your help."

"With what?"

"My shoulder."

Carth inspected Vincent's shoulder for the first time and his eyes widened as he saw the condition it was in. "Hell...you messed that up pretty bad. How'd you pop it out?"

"Fell on it," Vincent replied.

"You may have busted your collarbone too, I can't tell in this light. Alright, can you kneel?" Vincent got down on his good knee. "This is gonna hurt..."

"I know. Just do it."

"You sure you don't want to wait till we get back to the Enclave?"

"No. Do it."

"Okay, your call." Carth grabbed Vincent's arm firmly and prepared himself to force it back into place. "On three. One...two..."

**_CRACK!_**

"ARGH!" Bastila winced as Vincent's face contorted in pain and his head snapped back, his whole body tense. "...thank you..." he forced through clenched teeth.

With the help of his friends, Vincent righted himself and made it over to the computer, glancing down at the terminal and beginning to work.

This time, the terminal wished to know the three primary life giving seeds.

"I wonder what those are..." Vincent said sarcastically.

"You don't take anything seriously do you?" Bastila asked.

"I can be as serious as I want to be. I just don't want to be right now. Is that a problem?"

"Not unless you consider being childish a problem," she retorted icily.

Slightly irked at her attitude, he returned to the question on his data pad. Answering correctly, he heard the door in the main room slide open noisily, creating a small vibration in the ground as it did so.

He had regained the use of both legs, and he now snuck up behind Bastila. Placing his mouth very close to her ear, he spoke in a low voice, "Wonderful. I can only imagine what's behind that door."

She felt a tingle as his warm breath tickled her ear and the back of her neck.

"Hopefully, what we're looking for," she said, walking quickly into the newly opened room. Grinning at Carth who had an amused look on his face, Vincent followed her. Upon reaching the Star Map, it opened and presented them with a picture of the galaxy.

"It seems to be incomplete..." Bastila trailed. Biting back a sarcastic remark he would have loved to send her way, Vincent nodded.

"Yeah, but that's Kashyyyk. And here's Dantooine, Korriban, Mannan, and Tatooine. Those are the only planets though." A thought struck him. "Those planets must have Star Maps as well, since they're the only ones this Star Map shows."

"Yeah," Carth agreed. "Why else would they be on the map?"

"I think you're right. We should tell the Council about this immediately," Bastila suggested. Carth turned and began to walk toward the exit, but Vincent noticed that Bastila stayed put.

"Is there something you want to talk to me about?" he asked, unsure if that would go over well or not.

"Yes, actually. How could you tell?"

"You were staring," he stated bluntly.

He could tell she was taken aback by that answer. "I was not staring! I was merely studying your reactions."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "I think we both know the real reason you were staring at me."

Now she was angry. "I am a Jedi! I would not betray such feelings with an outward display. My interest in you is purely academic."

He was enjoying this immensely. "Interest?"

"Yes, "interest". I would like to know more about you, given our relationship."

"Our relationship? Is that some kind of come on?"

"What – I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about. I assure that if I _was_ interested in a romantic liaison, I could come up with something much better than that. Now may I please just ask you some questions?"

Vincent was struggling to suppress the grin that was threatening to break out on his face. "Sure," he said, not the slightest bit uncomfortable with the fact that she was quizzing him.

"Just a few questions, nothing too personal. First, what is your name?"

He stared at her for a few seconds. Was she serious? "Vincent," he answered slowly.

"Good. Now, what is your occupation?"

"A soldier, nothing too fancy."

"Where were you born?"

"Deralia, a planet on the Outer Rim."

"And your current age is?"

He couldn't help himself. "3, 012. Healthy living, you know."

"I can see you won't take this seriously either. We'll continue talking when you decide to quit acting like a boy, and act more like a...man."

**What! Act like a – you want a man? I'll give you a man, Bastila. Damn woman and her mood swings...** He thought angrily.

"Look," he said catching up with her, as she had been walking away, "I'm sorry, but I didn't see the point in those questions. You could've found all of that out from my service records."

"I know. I was checking how you responded to the questions, not the answers themselves."

"I acted immature, okay? I said I was sorry, but...I just don't like everybody being stressed out like that. It's weird, and I can't focus when I can practically feel the tension in the air," Vincent said defending himself. "If it really bothers you that much, I'll try to work on it."

For the second time in as many minutes, Bastila was taken aback by something he had done or said. "You would do that? Why?"

He gave her a puzzled look. "Why not? If it's going to bother you, then that means it's going to get in the way. Then we'll fight about it, and we'll do something stupid – okay, maybe I'll do something stupid – and things will get bad. And that isn't something that I want to happen. I want things to be good between us. I don't..." he trailed, not able to finish.

Bastila stopped walking and touched his arm lightly. "You don't what?" she asked softly, peering into his eyes. He looked very uncomfortable, and he shifted a few times before answering.

"I don't want to talk about this right now," he said, his voice barely audible. "Let's just get back to the Council, and tell them what we found, alright?"

She nodded, deciding not to press the issue.

"Did you two get married or something while I was out here? What took so long?"

Vincent shook his head stiffly, clearly not wanting to discuss it. "Later," he barked, setting off in something that resembled a brisk jog in the direction of the Jedi Enclave. Carth looked at Bastila inquisitively, but she gave him a look that told him not to ask about it. Shaking his own head in confusion, Carth jogged off in the direction Vincent had gone, and soon caught up with him.

"Hey, is everything alright?"

Vincent's jaw clenched. "I said I didn't want to talk about it."

"You don't have to, I just want to know if everything's alright."

"Nothing is "alright." If you want it to be "alright" then -" Vincent began, his voice raised. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you. The truth is no, I'm not alright. She brought up a touchy subject back there. Can we drop it now?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we can drop it," Carth replied, understanding that now would definitely not be a good time to push his friend's buttons. Not if he wanted to return to the Enclave conscious. About that time Bastila caught up with both of them.

"Is everything alright?"

"Oh just peachy," Vincent muttered under his breath.

"That's not a good question, Bas," Carth whispered to her once Vincent was out of earshot. "I think we should just leave him alone for a while, let him talk about whatever it is when he feels comfortable."

Thankfully, they had now reached the Enclave courtyard. Vincent was tired, and he could feel the beginning of a massive headache coming on. Sighing and rubbing his eyes, he felt like he wanted to cry when he heard someone address him.

"Excuse me, Master Jedi?"

He recognized the voice as belonging to a settler named Jon. "Here," he grunted, shoving ared Mandalorian helmet at the man. "They're gone."

"Thank you so much. Here, please take this as a reward."

"Keep your credits, I don't want them," Vincent said wearily as he tried to walk away.

"Please sir, it's the least I can give you for what you've done," Jon said, shoving the credits into Vincent's hand. Too tired to argue, he simply accepted the credits with a nod, and walked inside the Enclave. Once in front of the Masters, he let Bastila do all of the taking, and he found himself back inside the **_Ebon Hawk _**sooner than he expected. Walking to the crew quarters which he shared with Carth and Canderous, he stripped down to just his pants and collapsed on the bed. He needed a shower; he was dirty, and he smelled like kath hound, but he was in no mood to move. Exhausted, and finally alone, he fell into a deep sleep.

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Well, that's chapter one! I would greatly appreciate any feedback. If there's anything I need to change or improve, let me know. I write for you readers out there, and I want you to have an enjoyable experience, so if something needs to be fixed (again), tell me. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again. Comment on the reviews: thank you so much guys. You have no idea how much your observations help! You were right, I should go into more detail, and thier mood swings were pretty sudden. So, two things I will work on! Sometimes, when you get in the middle of writing a chapter, you know what you're talking about and how you want it to play out, but it's hard to convey to your readers. With those three things in mind, here's the second chapter.

Oh, one more thing. I've played both light and dark side, but only with a male character. I don't have a lot of free time, so getting through the gamea couple of timeswith one character is pretty good for my schedule. Once again, if I screw up on something, let me know!

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Vincent lay in his bunk listening to the sounds of Carth and Canderous sleeping soundly. They had spent a few more days on Dantooine, but now it was time to leave. When he and Bastila had told the Jedi Council that they found an ancient Star Map in those ruins, the Council had asked that Vincent and all of his companions continue the search for the rest of the Star Maps. Apparently, the Council felt that if they could find the maps, then they could find a way to stop Malak and his seemingly invincible armada of Sith. Not that he didn't want to stop Malak, but Vincent wasn't too keen on doing a cross-galaxy search for a bunch of maps that may lead to nothing. But if that's what the Council wanted, who was he to argue? 

Resigning himself to the fact that he wasn't going to fall back asleep, Vincent figured he would take a walk. After all, they left for Kashyyyk in the morning, and he had heard that Dantoine looked particularly beautiful at night. Slipping a loose shirt on, Vincent grabbed his lightsaber, and began the short trek to the **_Ebon Hawk_**'s exit. Once open, he walked down the ramp, through the Jedi Enclave, and outside to the courtyard. Sitting down on a small stone bench that was near the door, Vincent took in his surroundings. The night sky was a velvety deep purple, and countless stars burned brightly against their dark background. Dantooine's rolling greenplains stretched on for miles, and massive trees dotted the landscape. From here, Vincent could just make out the lights of some buildings from the Sandral's estate, and he smiled. Whoever said that love made people do crazy things had more wisdom than he knew. Somehow, Vincent had managed to end a long-standing feud between two of the richest families on Dantooine: the Sandrals and the Matales.

Both of the respective family's fathers hated each other with a passion, and the feud was ready to break into an all out war. Apparently, the son of Nurik Sandral, Cassus, had gone missing, andNurik blamed it on Ahlan Matale. To make matters worse, Ahlan's son Shen had also recently gone missing, and it was no surprise that Ahlan blamed the Sandrals. Vincent had found Cassus' body in a field, badly mauled by kath hounds. When he had reported this to Nurik, Nurik refused to speak, and retreated to his estate to mourn his son's death. That was when things got interesting. Vincent had then spoken to Nurik Sandral's daughter, Rahasia. She said that her father had kidnapped Shen Matale in retaliation to the belief that Ahlan Matale had kidnapped her brother Cassus. Rahasia was afraid that her father might harm Shen in some way, and begged Vincent to rescue him before something happened. Vincent agreed, but upon finding Shen, he ran into another problem. Shen refused to leave without Rahasia. The two were in love, and were determined to stay together, despite the bad blood between their familes. He told Rahasia of Shen's decision, and she agreed to meet them outside the estate. Just when Vincent thought that Shen and Rahasia might get away without having to deal with their fathers, both Nurik Sandral and Ahlan Matale showed up, armed with battle droids and ready to hurt something. Vincent persuaded both fathers to accept that their children were in love, and to end the fight that had been going on for years. Shen and Rahasia ran off to get married, and Nurik and Ahlan presumably discontinued their skirmishes. Only time would tell if their promise lasted, but at least thier children were happy.

For having so many Jedi on Dantooine, the planet had its fair share of problems. Vincent sighed and laid down on the bench, looking up into the breathtaking night sky. So many stars were shining brightly, but they could be snuffed out in an instant. **Just like people**, he mused. Once again the thought of Shen and Rahasia entered his mind. He wondered how many people went through their life without experiencing love. **Besides us Jedi**, he thought. If there was one thing he didn't agree with, it was the rule that Jedi were not allowed to have emotional attatchments. "**Emotional attatchments lead to inner conflict", they said. "It may lead to jealousy, anger and hate, all emotions that lead to the Dark side." Do they see any Dark Jedi in love? Sure the Sith have wives, but they just follow an ideal. The truly evil Jedi don't care for love, they just want to cause suffering and pain.** He closed his eyes, deep in thought. He knew that the Order would not have made a rule if there was no clear reason behind it. He trusted the Order, but that didn't mean he had to agree with them. He just didn't understand it. He had seen so much good come from being in love. He had witnessed happy families, devoted couples, and countless acts of personal sacrifice, all because of love. Shaking his head, he sat up. The sun was just beginning to appear above the horizon, and it cast a faint orange light on the planet's surface.

"Beautiful," he breathed, in awe of the sight that was before him. Standing, Vincent had a feeling that he had just witnessed his last peaceful sunrise for a long time. Walking slowly back to the **_Ebon Hawk_**, he was mildly surprised to find Bastila sitting in the main hold with a worried look on her face.

"Where have you been?" She asked, standing.

"I couldn't sleep," he answered truthfully. "I went out into the courtyard and just sat for a while, trying to clear my head. It's beautful out there at night." Then, noticing she was the only other person awake, "Why are you up?"

"I couldn't sleep either. I could feel your confusion through our bond," she answered.

He winced. "I woke you? I'm sorry. I didn't know..."

Bastila held up a hand at his misunderstanding. "No, you didn't wake me. I was already up. You really must stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault."

"Sorry." She looked at him. "Oops," he said grinning sheepishly. "I'm gonna grab a cup of caffa. You want some?"

She nodded, retreating back to the seat in which she had just been occupying. Vincent returned a few minutes later with two steaming hot mugs of caffa and a blanket, which he handed to her. When she asked what it was for, he shrugged.

"I dunno. I was always under the impression that you women like to curl up with a blanket and a good book, so I figured a blanket and a warm drink might be kind of the same," he said, sinking into a chair.

Sipping from her mug of caffa, she glanced at Vincent. His eyes were closed, and he was occasionally sipping from his own drink. At just over six feet, he was tall and powerfully built. Bastila took a moment to study his face. He was handsome, more so than any other man she could remember. His dark hair was shaved close to his head, and the goatee that adorned his chin was neatly trimmed. Though his eyes were closed, she had no difficulty in remembering their color. A captivating and intense green, they were nonetheless warm and inviting. A thin, inch-long scar ran down from the outside corner of his right eye, which, surprisingly, did not take away from his overall attractiveness. Bastila noticed that a smile had formed on his face.

"Is there something comical that you wish to share?"

His grin widened, and when he opened his eyes, they were filled with mischief. "No, just thinking."

"And you haven't dropped dead from the effort? I'm impressed."

"Ha. Very funny. I didn't know you had the capacity for joking."

Shaking her head, Bastila took another sip of caffa. They were both silent for a while, then Vincent spoke. "What do you know about Force bonds?" He was sitting forward in his chair staring at her intently.

"Not very much," she admitted, setting her drink down. "They are known to occur between Padawans and their Masters, but even then I believe it isn't an overly common thing. Sometimes, it may happen between two people strong in the Force."

He stroked his goatee absently. "So that's what happened to us?"

She hesitated slightly. "I believe so, yes."

"And this means...what?"

"Our fates are linked. Whatever one of us does affects the other."

Now it was Vincent's turn to shake his head. "Wow, this is like a bad holovid. I think that idea's been used before, you know, the whole "intertwined destiny" thing."

"Nevertheless, it's true."

"Hmm...I wonder...?" he murmured to no one in particular. "I want to try something. Calm your mind, ok?"

"What are you going to do?"

"I've been studying about Force bonds over the last couple of days with Master Dorak, and I've found out some pretty interesting facts. I want to try this, but you have to trust me. I promise it's not bad," he added at her disbelieving look.

Closing her eyes, Bastila complied with his request. Through the Force, she could feel him doing the same. Vincent was doubtful that he would accomplish what he wanted, but he had to try. Concentrating on their bond, he reached out to her.

_"Bastila?"_

Her eyes snapped open. "Did you do that?"

_"I didn't think this would actually work."_

"How did you - "

_"Shut up and try talking through the bond. I feel stupid just staring at you like this..."_

_"You'll feel even more stupid if we're both sitting here just staring at each other, not saying a word."_

_"Only if someone walks in. And technically we **are** speaking. Besides, your eyes are closed."_

_"How did you figure this out?"_

_"Well, Dorak said it's kind of like listening, really. If you concentrate on it, you can do it. Or, you can block it out. Which I've tried already, by the way."_

_"I didn't feel anything from you."_

_" That's the point. But I didn't shut myself off from you completely, Bastila. I just hid some of my emotions, and what was going through my head. Try it."_

Bastila did as he said, and she found it was easier than she expected. Deciding to test her new found abiltiy, she thought of a particularly amusing comment that she knew Vincent would take mock offense at.

_"You didn't hear that did you?"_ she asked him, her eyes now open.

_"Hear what?"_ His eyes narrowed. _"Bastila...what did you just call me?"_

_"I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't call you anything."_

_"Oh yes you did. That's what you didn't want me to hear, isn't it?"_

_"Hmm...maybe."_

_"You know what? I don't - hey, somebody's up."_

_"I think it's Carth."_

_"Ignore him. See what happens."_

"No," she said while standing. "Besides, I need to speak with the Council. It's morning now."

_"Time flies when you're having fun, huh?"_

She rolled her eyes. "Oh yes." At that moment, Carth walked in yawning.

"Do you Jedi ever sleep?"

"Apparently not," Vincent said, standing and stretching.

"Hey, where's Bastila going?"

"She said something about having to speak to the Council before we left. I'm gonna do a quick systems check on the **_Ebon Hawk_**, ok?"

Carth nodded, and walked into the ship's cockpit. Checking the navicomputer, he set the hyperdrive coordinates for Kashyyyk. Carth Onasi had been a Republic soldier for many years, and in all of his travels, never had he heard of these "Star Maps" that the Jedi Council wanted Vincent to find. He didn't doubt that the Council knew what they were doing, but he still had a bad feeling about all of this. If Revan and Malak had been searching for the Star Maps, then they were most likely artifacts of dark power, and Carth had always tried to avoid run-ins with anything connected to the Dark side. Glancing behind him, he noticed that Vincent had entered the cockpit as well. He had a perplexed look on his face.

"What's on your mind?"

"Hmm?" He glanced up. "Well, it seems we have another passenger. You remember Juhani?" Carth nodded. "She's requested that she accompany us on our 'quest'."

"Is that...bad?"

"No, we just seem to be turning into a passenger liner. Though I'm sure her combat skills will come in handy."

"Yeah, and I have the feeling we'll need all the help we can get."

Vincent nodded slowly. "Me too, Carth."

"Are we ready to leave?" Bastila's voice called out from the hallway.

Vincent glanced at Carth, who gave a thumbs up. "Yep," he answered as she slid into the co-pilot's seat. Yawning, Vincent stretched again. "My late night walk has finally caught up with me. I'm gonna go back to sleep. Wake me if anything interesting happens," he added, winking at Bastila.

"That man is insufferable," she muttered when he had left the room.

"He's just trying to keep everyone's spirits up. Go easy on him."

"Carth, such disregard for the severity of this situation is dangerous! Now I have no doubt that he can pull off the impossible, but he's being borderline stupid," she said tiredly, rubbing her temples.

Carth explained the situation slowly, carefully choosing his words. "How would you feel if all of a sudden, you wake up on a ship, and find out that you have to save someone's life?" He paused. "Then, you find out that you can become a Jedi? Not to mention the fact that you seem to have a mysterious bond with someone you hardly know?" He paused here as well. "Oh, and you also have to save the galaxy. Don't you think he feels a little pressured?"

Bastila sat pondering his answer for a while. "I'm going to see if I can sleep as well," was all she said as she exited the cockpit. Carth sighed. Bastila meant well, but she was too caught up in her little Jedi Code. He had tried to remain as calm and objective as he could while trying to defend Vincent, and he only hoped he had gotten through to her. She was young and headstrong, and sometimes her temper got the better of her. He could tell that the image of an ideal Jedi had been pounded into her head from day one, and whenever Vincent didn't fit that image, she began to panic, thinking he was about to go Dark side on them all. Carth wondered if being a Jedi was worth it. Sure, you got Force powers and an awesome weapon, but the whole galaxy scrutinized your every move.You had to learn to supress your emotions, and go through life without ever truly caring for someone. To Carth, that wasn't human. Rubbing his own temples, he stood and made his way back to the crew quarters. Hyperspace travel was long an boring, and for some reason, he was still tired. Sliding under the sheets, Carth lay awake for a long time before finally slipping into a restless slumber.

The wail of sirens woke him, and he sat up groggily. Carth heard a thud, a muffled curse, then Vincent's voice yelling "What the hell is going on?" Snapping out of it, Carth realized that the **_Ebon Hawk _**was under attack.

"Somebody needs to man those turrets!" he said while stumbling into the ship's cockpit. Their shields were already at 80 percent, and steadily declining. He only hoped Vincent was a good shot.

His mouth drawn into a thin line, Vincent swung the turret around, firing as he did so. The laser bolts slammed into a Sith fighter, causing its wing to explode and the ship to go spinning off wildly into space beforemeeting its demisein a bright ball of fire.

"Incoming fighters, three o'clock!" he heard Carth's voice yelling through to comm system in his turret.

"Got it!" he said, turning just in time to see the Sith fighter line up for another attack. "Come on," he breathed, waiting for the smaller ship to get into just the right position. Pumping the trigger once, Vincent let fly with a round of fire toward the fighter. Too late, the enemy realized that he could not pull out of his attack dive, and was now caught in the path of two burning plasma bolts. The sound of his shallow breathing and rapidly beating heart was the last thing the Sith heard before his ship was blown into oblivion.

"How many?" Vincent grunted, blinking to clear his still sleep fogged vision.

"Two more, coming in on your left."

Swinging to face them, Vincent cursed his luck. A sun, or maybe a ridiculously bright star, he couldn't tell which, was impairing his sight. Having to operate with only his radar to guide him, he fired a few shots off into where the fighters were supposed to be. Missing by a large amount, Vincent knew there was no way he could hit them while they had the sun as cover. He would just have to sit tight, and wait for them to make a pass. This didn't take too long, as Vincent's wild shots had given the Sith a foolish boost of confidence. Both of the fighters went into a dive, peppering Vincent with plasma fire. A grin had formed on the Jedi's face.

"Idiots."

Aiming his guns to where the Sith would be after their pass, Vincent waited a split second before firing. He watched with a detached amusement as both of the fighters ran straight into the trap he had prepared. One fighter was slow on the uptake, and was destroyed by the laser fire. The second Sith managed to avoid Vincent's first round of fire, but didn't live long enough to celebrate as his back end was quickly engulfed in flames. The explosion from the first fighter had ignited the second one's engines, and he became one with the Force in an impressive display of orange, and interestingly enough, purple.

"Well that wasn't so bad," Vincent said while dropping down from the turret's ladder.

"That was an impressive trap you drew them into," Canderous complimented.

"Great shooting. They had no idea what hit them," Carth said with a grin.

"Thanks guys. That really wasn't that impressive..."

"Not that impressive? Hell, you took them out in record time! I've never seen somebody fire that fast."

"Carth, quit it! I feel like you're my mother," he teased, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Yes, as impressive as that was, I can't help but be a bit disappointed in you Vincent."

He turned at the sound of Bastila's voice. She had an irritated look on her face, and her arms were folded across her chest. He simply stood there, waiting for the lecture he knew was soon to follow.

"Though you did despatch those fighters with relative ease, I couldn't help but notice you took a great deal of...pleasure...in doing so. I also find it distressing that you found their demise humorous, to say the least."

"And?" he said, his voice calm and even.

"Such emotions, such lust for battle...these are things of the Dark side, Vincent."

"I don't think that enjoying ridding the galaxy of a few Sith scum is going to damn me to the path of the Dark side, Bastila."

She sighed. "The lure of the Dark side is subtle and inviting. It draws you in, further and further until you cannot resist its power any longer. It twists you into everything you hate, everything you fought against. You take pleasure in the killing of innocents, you revel in their pain."

"And you're saying the Light side is innocent of such killing?"

"No one is innocent of killing in war, but the Light side works for the greater good. I am simply saying that your lack of emotional control is dangerous."

"I really don't think that mastering my emotions is that big of an issue."

"Then you are a fool," she stated simply before turning and walking away.

"She's fiery, that's for sure," Canderous said to Vincent. "You should just bed her now and get it over with."

Vincent had to grab the turret ladder to keep himself standing. "What!"

"You heard me," the Mandalorian said with a sly grin. "She'd bear strong children. And it's obvious you're infatuated with her."

"I have - I should punch you right now for even suggesting that," Vincent growled. "Appealing as it may be," he added, his own grin forming.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Canderous said, patting Vincent roughly on the shoulder. Both Carth and Canderous said good night, retreating back to the crew quarters and leaving Vincent to his thoughts. Canderous had a point, she was fiery. And she was beautiful, not to mention that fact that she had a great figure...he mentally slapped himself. He didn't - no, he _couldn't_ feel that way about her. They were Jedi, and it wasn't allowed. Sinking dejectedly into a chair, he buried his face in his hands. Why was everything always so difficult for him? He had never been good at opening up and telling people how he felt, so this should be a piece of cake. Hell, he wasn't even allowed to feel anything! So why was it so hard? Deep in thought, Vincent didn't realize that he had dozed off until a strange vision manifested itself. He could see what looked like another Star Map, but it was sitting on a forest floor, surrounded by massive trees. The whole picture was encircled by a grey fog, and it only lasted for a brief period. He was gently awakened by a surprisingly light nudge by Zaalbar who looked apprehensive and was shifting nervously.

(We've landed,) was all that he said.

* * *

Ok, I'm hoping that was more detailed for y'all. I tried to get Bastila into one of her "mentor" modes, cause she's like that a lot during the game. Oh, and whenever Zaalbar or a Wookie speaks, their dialogue will be offset with these "(...)". It's the only stupid symbol that this thing recognized, so that's what they get. Please R&R! 


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again. I've decided I'm going to break the planets into two chapters each, or else the chapters would be at leat 10,000 words long, and I have a hard time typing that much. Once again, I love feedback, so help me out. Oh, and the conversation btw Bastila and Vincent near the end is taken straight from the game, so...yeah. Don't tell me I need to fix that, cuz it isn't my script. Enjoy. OH! Has anyone else noticed that this stupid thing puts words together sometimes? It's very annoying, and I apologize if I don't catch them all. Thanks.

* * *

"Thanks Zaalbar," Vincent said while standing and rubbing his eyes. Almost instinctively, he reached out with the Force and felt for Bastila's presence, and he briefly wondered when it had become second nature for him to do that. She was in her room, and he could feel that she was meditating because her calm was almost palpable through their bond. 

"Have we docked yet?" he asked Carth upon entering the cockpit.

"Yeah, we're docked. You can head out whenever you're ready." Suddenly, Vincent remembered a conversation that he had shared with the Republic officer on Taris. Carth had been very suspicious of him and the fact that he had been transferred at the last minute and managed to survive when everyone else didn't. Vincent had tried to persuade the older man that there was nothing going on, and that he had nothing to do with the destruction of the **_Endar Spire_**, but Carth wouldn't listen. He maintained that he didn't trust Vincent, but that it was nothing personal, he had just been betrayed in the past and didn't want it to happen again. Vincent had confronted him later on his lack of trust and learned that Carth's mentor, Admiral Saul Karath, had been the man to betray Telos to the Sith.

"Carth, we didn't end our last discussion very well..." Vincent trailed, knowing the other man would pick up on his meaning.

"I know, I'm just not used to talking about this. At all, really. But I suppose I owe you an apology. I shouldn't take out my frustration on you, and I'm sorry."

"It's alright, but I do want to know why you want revenge on Saul so badly."

"I told you already, he betrayed me and the Republic."

"It's just that I get the feeling it's more personal than that."

"It is...and I guess you deserve an explanation," Carth admitted. "I was just so desperate to finally face Saul in the battle over Taris. I lost my home planet, Telos, to the Sith when Saul betrayed us. He demanded an immediate surrender, and when we didn't comply, he proceeded to bomb the planet into dust. I...I had a...a wife, and a son, on Telos. I thought they would be safe there, but I was wrong. After the bombing, my task force got there too late. We...we didn't have enough medical supplies, and the colony was burning, the dying were everywhere," Carth trailed here, a sad look on his face. "I remember holding my wife and screaming for the medics, but...they didn't make it in time."

Vincent was shocked. "I'm sorry Carth, I had no idea..."

"Of course you didn't, I mean how could you? But that's why I have to kill Saul. I know that killing him won't bring my family back, and I know it won't make me happy again, but it's something I have to do."

"What was your wife like?" Vincent asked softly.

"She had courage...and she was stubborn. I couldn't change her mind once she made it up. She hated it when I signed back on with the fleet, but I was planning to come back soon, to be with her and my son."

"What happened to your son?"

Carth sighed. "His name was Dustil, and I don't know what happened to him. The colony was in ruins, and there was never any trace of him found. I searched for years after that, but...I gave up."

"I didn't mean to pry. I'm sorry."

"No," Carth said. "You deserved and explanation for my behavior. Besides, I feel better now that I've told someone, so thanks."

Bastila had now walked in, and both men turned to face her. "Are we ready to go?"

Vincent nodded. "Yes, but do you think we should take Zaalbar with us?"

"Well, this is his home planet after all, and we could use him as a guide."

"True, but I sense he has some unresolved issues here that may make him a liability. I don't want to jeopardize anyone's safety, or the mission for that matter."

Vincent decided that it would be best to leave Zaalbar on the ship until it was certain he was needed. If anything came up, he would contact the Wookie via a COM link on his wrist. Though Zaalbar was disappointed, he agreed with Vincent's choice.

(I thank you for considering my feelings in this personal matter, Vincent. I would like to come with you, but I feel I have not prepared myself fully to face why awaits me on the surface.)

Upon stepping out of the **_Ebon Hawk_**, Vincent was met by an Ithorian dock worker.

"Greetings, sentient. I'm afraid that there is a 100 credit docking fee before I am allowed to render any assistance to you."

Vincent rolled his eyes. There was _always_ a docking fee before you could be helped. Paying the Ithorian, he waited patiently.

"Thank you," the Ithorian said after he had counted and deposited the credits. "Welcome to G5-623, planet Edean. Would you like us to provide a translator for you?"

"Uh, no thanks. I can handle myself."

"You know the Wookie's dialect? Only those with a great facility for languages can learn to speak in the tongue of this planet's native species. If you'll follow me to the Czerka office, I will provide you with better assistance, and supplies if need be."

Vincent, accompanied by Bastila and Juhani, followed the alien to a small little building with only two rooms. The first room contained supplies and a few guards, whereas the second was the Ithorian's office. A computer terminal and a beast cage greeted Vincent's sight as he walked in, and he was appalled to see that a Wookie was trapped inside the cage.

"Why is that Wookie in a cage?" he demanded.

"Eh...the slave got a little out of hand. He had to be sedated."

"You're a slaver?"

"Not I personally," the Ithorian explained. "Czerka corporation has taken an interest in utilizing the capabilities of the natives here. Namely Wookies."

"And I'm sure these Wookies just let you walk up and take them, don't they?"

"The village leader, Chuundar, has made a deal with us. We provide him with weapons and necessities, and he provides us with a healthy supply of Wookies."

"Where can I find this Chuundar?" Vincent asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

"In the village to the north of here. Outside, take the Great Walkway. You can't miss the Wookie guard."

Taking the Ithorian's advice, they proceeded in the direction of the Great Walkway. They ran into a merchant named Eli who was holding a certain Mister Matton Dasol until he paid off a debt, but Vincent was too preoccupied to pay much notice. A myriad of emotions were coursing through him. He was angry, frustrated...disappointed. **How dare they just waltz in here, and enslave the whole planet? And who the hell is this Chuundar? If I ever find him, I'll make sure he regrets making a deal with these Czerka scum...**

"And just where do you think you're going?" A particularly haughty Czerka guard asked him as he neared the entrance to the Great Walkway.

"Out," he growled, not liking the man's tone.

"It's dangerous out there, so don't say I didn't warn you. The Wookies get rid of some of the kinrath, but I swear they leave some packs intact, just hoping a Czerka employee will get killed."

"Can't say I blame them," Vincent retorted icily, brushing past the man and continuing on.

"Vincent, you really must control your anger," Bastila said walking alongside him.

"It is controlled. If it wasn't, that man would be in a kolto tank right now." He sighed. "I'm not so much angry as I am disappointed. Humans can be so...prejudiced."

She was about to reply, but they were attacked by a pack of forest kinrath, and she had to focus her attention on taking them out. They were surprisingly vicious for creatures that, in all honesty, looked almost fragile. They had thin, spindly legs, and a slender arm on the front of their bodies which was outfitted with a poisonous barb that could inflict major damage. One on one, a single kinrath was no problem. But then again, they never traveled alone, so they were always a problem. Dodging a particularly nasty kinrath attack, Vincent sliced off the creature's only means of defense, rendering it harmless for the most part. Ramming his lightsaber into its belly, he pulled up, cleaving the kinrath in two. He turned, ready to defend against any other enemy, but found that there were none. Bastila and Juhani had quite efficiently dispatched of the other two kinrath. Bastila eyed his lightsaber with a look he couldn't quite place.

"I didn't know you had changed your blade color," was all that she said.

"I always felt like I was forced to pick blue since I'm a Jedi Guardian, and I always hated it. When I found this violet crystal, I decided to switch colors," he said shrugging.

The group continued on in silence. The Great Walkway lived up to its name; the enormous wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk's forest were breathtaking, and the sheer size of it all was intimidating. Not to mention the fact that practically every native inhabitant on the planet had some means of killing you painfully. Vincent saw some Czerka personnel in the distance, standing over what appeared to be the corpse of a Wookie.

"Who are you?" the captain of the group asked when Vincent approached. "What do you want? We did nothing wrong here!"

"Oh? Let me guess, the "Wookie slave" got a little rebellious, and had to be put down?" he asked flatly, his voice betraying no emotion.

"Yeah, and we shouldn't have to pay for this either!" One of the Czerka lackeys added.

"Shut up you idiot! Yes, the Wookie attacked us, and we had to...put it down, as you so aptly stated."

"You should pull some favors and get off planet, now, if you know what's good for you," Vincent said, using the Force to persuade the man. He had no desire to get into a fight, and the captain was beginning to reach suspiciously for his blaster.

"Yeah, I think I'll pull some favors...and get off planet. That's a good idea. C'mon men, let's get out of here!"

Vincent watched as the Czerka patrol ran off in the direction of the docks.

"Why do you dislike the Czerka so much?" Juhani asked.

"Because all they do is lie, cheat and extort people out of everything they have. Take this for example," he said, moving his arm in a wide arc to indicate his surroundings. "They're enslaving an entire race, just so they can use them as cheap labor. On other planets, they jack up prices so high, other smaller businesses can't compete, and are then forced to close. Plus, they're in alliance with the Sith. And anyone who helps the Sith is not going to get my favor."

"That sounds much like Taris," Juhani mused somewhat bitterly.

"Yes, unfortunately it's a never ending cycle of greed and lust for power. Money and power are all that drive most people, and they'll do anything to get it. Even if it means stepping on a few innocents to get it."

"That was very philosophical. You're beginning to sound like a Jedi Master," Bastila stated.

"Yeah? Well...we're wasting time. We need to keep moving."

As they rounded another tree, Vincent realized they had just come face to face with three Dark Jedi.

"Damn," he muttered. "This is just perfect. We can't go two feet without running into some kind of trouble."

The middle Jedi addressed them with a cold voice. "Lord Malak was most displeased when he learned you had escaped Taris alive. He has promised a great reward for anyone who kills you."

Before Vincent could respond, the Dark Jedi drew their lightsabers, preparing to attack. Igniting his own violet blade, Vincent used a Force jump to close the distance between himself and his attacker, flipping in mid-air, and bringing his lightsaber down with tremendous force on the surprised enemy. Barely able to parry, the Dark Jedi stumbled backwards, attempting to increase the space between them. Vincent allowed him to do that, realizing that it would not be wise to attempt to dispatch his enemy when they were that close. No, he wanted to be able to see all three of his attackers, and Juhani and Bastila, in case he needed to aid them. His choice was a wise one; he heard Bastila cry out in pain as the Dark Jedi she was fighting landed a vicious blow to her head with the but of his lightsaber. Quickly, he immobilized his own enemy with a stasis attack, and used another Force jump to reach Bastila. Caught completely out of position, the Dark Jedi was unable to bring his weapon up to block as Vincent's blade sliced through his neck. He didn't even have time to cry out before his head was gone, cleanly decapitated by Vincent's attack.

"Bastard," he grunted as the Dark Jedi's now lifeless body slumped to the ground. Turning, Vincent threw his lightsaber at the enemy that was just now free from his stasis. Still sluggish from the Force power's affects, the Dark Jedi's body could not react in time to try and dodge the blade, and he was impaled through the stomach. Running toward him, Vincent used the Force to call his lightsaber back to his hand and strike down the Jedi with a single stroke. Juhani had defeated her attacker with relative ease, taking advantage of the Jedi's obviously lesser skill with a blade. He never had a chance, as Juhani had smashed his double-bladed lightsaber in two, and then rammed her own blue blade through the Dark Jedi's skull, killing him instantly.

Satisfied that they were now safe, Vincent quickly trotted back over to Bastila, who was just now standing. She was holding her hand over her right eye, and blood was rapidly seeping through her fingers. Vincent gently moved her hand away.

"Here," he murmured. "Let me take a look at that."

It was a deep gash just above her eyebrow, and it was bleeding profusely. He winced when he saw the wound, knowing it must have been causing her considerable discomfort.

"I think something's in there...don't move." When she had fallen, she must have struck her head on the floor, because there was a thin splinter of wood protruding from the gash. Yanking it out, Vincent heard Bastila hiss in pain.

"You could have warned me before you did that!"

"Sorry," he said, placing his own hand over the wound. Calling upon the Force, he concentrated on healing the cut, and within a few seconds, the only thing left to indicate she was once hurt was the blood on her face and hand. Helping her wipe it away, Vincent gently cupped her face in his large hands.

"You're going to give me a heart attack, you know that?" he said softly.

"It's not like the wound was life threatening, Vincent," she replied, staring defiantly into his eyes, though inside, Bastila felt weak at his touch.

"No, but the Jedi would have killed you. He almost knocked you out cold. Don't scare me like that."

She could sense the concern and genuine fear in his voice, and his sincerity touched her. However, her pride didn't allow for her to show it.

"I'm fine," Bastila said irritably. "I don't need you to baby-sit me." She winced inwardly at the disappointment she saw flash in his eyes. His hands dropped from her face, and he picked up her lightsaber and handed it to her.

"Here," he said quietly, turning and walking to the Jedi's fallen bodies to inspect them. Vincent mechanically stripped the bodies of anything useful, and began to drag them to the edge of the walkway. His face was blank, but if anyone were to look into his eyes, they would see the inner conflict that he was going through. Vincent knew that he should ignore Bastila's protests against him helping her, but they still got to him, despite his best efforts. He knew that it was her pride talking, and that she didn't mean exactly what she said, but it still hurt. She had no idea how much he cared about her, and when that Dark Jedi had cold cocked her, and he heard her cry out...his blood had run cold. Vincent thought that he was already too late, that maybe the Jedi had struck her with his lightsaber, and he wasn't going to be able to heal the wound. When he had seen, and felt through their bond that she was still alive, his fear had turned into a burning fury. One thought had consumed his mind: to murder that Jedi for hurting her. If he could have, he would have kept the Jedi alive and made him die painfully, but the situation didn't allow for it. There were still two other attackers to deal with, and he had to look out for his companions as well.

Now, as he reflected on what he felt during that moment, it scared him. The utter hatred in which he had looked upon the Dark Jedi had come out of nowhere so quickly. But that was not what scared Vincent. What scared him was the fact that he liked it. He liked feeling the fury pounding through his veins with every heart beat, the anger driving him on with an energy he didn't know he possessed. Tossing the three dead bodies over the railing, Vincent watched them fall for a moment. Sighing, he turned back to his two friends.

"C'mon, we should keep moving. We still have no idea where the Star Map is, and I have a feeling the hard part is just about to begin."

The Ithorian had been right when he said Vincent couldn't miss the guard. The Wookie was huge, standing easily over eight feet tall and looking very menacing despite the fact that he was unarmed. He growled in anger as the three humans approached.

(You poison the ground with you footsteps, outsider. Already you have brought the mad-claw with you, the one without honor. You are now only tolerated because our chieftain Chuundar wishes to speak with you.)

"You searched my ship?" Vincent began incredulously.

(Everything is still in order. We were careful in our inspection. Only the mad-claw you carry with you interested us.)

"Will you take me to this Chuundar?"

(I will. He wishes to speak with you as soon as possible.)

Following the Wookie, Vincent indeed felt privileged to even be allowed to step inside the village gates. All of the Wookies stared at him with a mixture of distrust and hate, and he had a feeling that if he wasn't being escorted, he might have ended up dead. Soon, he found himself in front of a Wookie adorned with a necklace and holding a menacing looking double-bladed vibrosword. His fur was black in most areas, grey in some others, and compared to the other Wookies, he was actually quite small.

(Ah, so you are the outsider that has brought my mad-claw brother back. I, the mighty and wise Chuundar, am chieftain of the village of Rwookrrorro.)

(Mighty and wise!) A Wookie next to Chuundar roared. (You were always the runt!)

(I am not a runt!) Chuundar cleared his throat and turned back to the humans. Vincent had know immediately that the "mad-claw" the Wookies had been referring to was his friend Zaalbar. Zaalbar was the only Wookie on his ship, and Vincent knew he had been exiled for some incident with his family.

"Zaalbar is your brother?"

(Yes, he has not told you this?) Chuundar answered for Zaalbar.

"Actually, he hasn't told me anything other than he isn't allowed to be back here."

(He is right in that statement. We would not have allowed him back were it not for you. Your presence comes at an interesting time, Vincent, for I must ask something of you. If you do this, Zaalbar will be returned to you.)

(Do not listen to him, Vincent! He works with Czerka slavers, trading away our people. He is not to be trusted!) Zaalbar interjected.

(Silence! You really do not have a choice in this matter Vincent, so I suggest you listen to what I have to say.)

"I'll listen, but I want to ask you some questions." Chuundar complied with Vincent's request, though his manner was still far from friendly. "Why did you make a deal with Czerka?"

(Simple. They provide us with weapons, and I provide them with Wookies. Now it is my turn. Will you listen to my proposition, or will I be forced to kill you?)

"I'm listening."

(Good. There is another mad-claw, a Wookie without honor, who was banished to the Shadowlands. I want you to go there, and kill him for me. Until you do this, Zaalbar will stay here.)

"Why do you want this Wookie dead?"

(He has been causing considerable trouble for the Czerka patrols lately, and I want him removed. You will have no problem communicating with my people, as they know your language quite well. I tell them that it is crucial to learn it so they can understand the enemy better, but in reality, it makes them easier to control.) Chuundar said, a cruel amusement flashing in his dark eyes.

"A nice nest of lies you've constructed here," Vincent said, disgusted at Chuundar's double dealing.

The Wookie chieftain laughed. (You may speak, but no one will believe you. I've had a long time to mold the way my people think.)

(No, you're wrong. There is one who would oppose you)

Vincent stayed silent, unsure of what Zaalbar meant.

(Do you speak of Freyyr, our father? He went just as insane as you, a year after you left. It seems he didn't approve of my...tactics. Now,) Chuundar said, turning once again to face Vincent. (Gorwooken operates the basket that will take you deep into the Shadowlands. I have instructed him to allow you down there. Speak to him, and he will take you. I will wait here for your return.)

"Play along, Zaalbar. I'll see what I can do," Vincent said to his Wookie friend.

(No more words!) Chuundar roared. (Go now, and do not return until you have done what I asked!)

Walking slowly out of the chieftain's hut, Vincent stopped once he was outside. A peculiar thought had just struck him.

"Bastila, why did the Council send me on this mission with you?"

She looked surprised at his question. "Why? I could not do this on my own. I need the aid of others – especially one who is strong in the Force. The bond between us made you a natural choice. Besides, the events on Taris proved that the Force wanted to bring us together for this mission, and there is little left to chance when the Force is involved. Is that not enough for you?"

Vincent couldn't help himself. "If the Force wants us to be together, why do you keep resisting my undeniable charms?"

"I said we were brought together for our mission: to stop Malak," she answered in annoyance. "I hardly think the Force would be pushing us towards a romantic involvement when the fate of the galaxy is at stake! Please try to stay focused. I doubt the Council would approve if they knew we were busy discussing our mutual attraction when we should be saving the galaxy from Malak."

"Mutual attraction?" He couldn't believe his luck. "I knew you were interested in me!"

She was flustered, and a blush had colored her cheeks. "Mutual attraction? I never said - it's just and expression! Whatever our feelings," she quickly corrected her mistake, "uh, I mean, whatever _your_ feelings are, you have to try and ignore them." She had regained her composure now, and was glaring daggers at him. "Don't let this complicate things. Finding the missing pieces of the Star Maps is our only hope of finding the Star Forge and stopping Malak. The Council explained all of this quite clearly."

"And that's it? That's enough reason for you to accept all this?"

"I admit, there were times that I wondered if this is more than just a mission to stop Malak There were times when I wondered if this was also a way for the Council to test my own abilities," Bastila said slowly.

"I get the feeling there's more going on than I know," he told her.

"I wondered if the Council wanted to see how I would help and guide you on this quest. I wondered if they were testing me to see if I was ready to become a Master myself. And then I realized how foolish such thoughts were. As the Council explained, sending a Master with our group would have brought unwanted attention from the Sith. The fate of the galaxy is at stake, the Council would not risk it merely to test me. They calculated the risks, and in the end, they chose the only option available."

Vincent shook his head. "I'm still not convinced."

"You must learn to trust in the wisdom of the Council. Your destiny will come in its appointed time. You mustn't be so impatient."

"_Me_?" he asked incredulously. "_You're_ the one who thought this was her big audition for 'Masterhood'!"

"_Must_ you be so frustrating? I admit, I had a moment of foolish pride, but I'm over it. Now I'm focused on my true responsibilities. I am simply trying to help you and complete this mission, yet you battle me at every turn!"

"What can I say? It's fun," he answered, shrugging in mock nonchalance.

"Fun? Fun?" Apparently, his last comment had seriously touched a nerve. She was furious. "Driving me insane is your idea of a good time!"

"Whoa, lighten up. I was only joking."

"You...you are a very odd man, do you know that? I simply don't know how to deal with you. All I want to do is help you, but you seem determined to drive me mad."

"You can complain all you want, but I know you love it," he said with a grin that made Bastila's heart skip.

"I don't know if I should be outraged that you keep joking about serious matters, or if I should be grateful that you can always lighten the mood," she admitted, her own smile forming.

"See? I told you I was good for something. Comic relief is more valuable than you realize."

"Comic relief? I would venture to say that you're better at making me so angry I can't think straight, then somehow weaseling out of it."

"Like just now?" he asked.

"Yes. Exactly like 'just now'. I don't know how you do it."

"Ah, I'm just too cute to stay mad at. I mean, look at this face! How can you not love it?"

"I'm going to refrain from commenting on that so as not to boost your already massively large male ego," Bastila answered.

"Oh that's harsh. I have low self-esteem! You're not helping."

"_You_ have low self-esteem? I never would have guessed..."

Vincent began walking toward the village exit. "Yeah? There's a lot about me you don't know since we never actually sit down and have nice talks like this," he joked. "But then again, I could say the same for you. Even with this bond of ours."

"Yes, that is true. But this isn't the time or the place for that discussion. Maybe when we get back to the **_Ebon Hawk_**."

He simply nodded. He wasn't very keen on discussing his past, but maybe it would be good for him to tell someone what he had been through. He would worry about that once he had completed Chuundar's task of eliminating the troublesome Wookie. Vincent found Gorwooken easily since he was the only Wookie standing next to the basket that transported people to and from the Shadowlands. Apparently, Gorwooken hated outsiders as well, since he addressed Vincent with about as much respect as a rancor has for a fly.

(You are the human Chuundar has sent to deal with the traitorous Wookie? Ha, I doubt you will live long enough to complete this task.)

"Just lower the basket," Vincent said tiredly.

(Very well, outsider. The descent is long, and you must be still, or we will attract the attention of...unwanted guests.)


	4. Chapter 4

Not to be pushy or anything, but...please review. It makes me feel good, and prompts me to write faster, just to let y'all know. Besides, it's nice. Pleeeeeeaase?Anyway, this and the next chapter were actually going to be one loooooooooong chapter, but I decided to break them up. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Gorwooken had been right. The descent into the Shadowlands was long, and Vincent had already lost track of time. It was eerily silent on the way down, the quiet broken only by the occasional rustling of leaves and an odd noise from a creature every now and then. The deeper they dropped into the Shadowlands, the darker it became, until Vincent was quite convinced that he was never going to see true daylight again. Having nothing better to do, he studied all of his companions. 

Gorwooken looked decidedly bored, obviously used to the trip between the forest floor and the upper boughs. Juhani had a look of amazement on her face, utterly fascinated by the enormous trunks and incredible height of the great wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk. Bastila, on the other hand, appeared to be bothered by something. She had a vacant stare, and her eyebrows were furrowed in thought. Gently brushing his hand against hers, Vincent gave a questioning stare.

"_What's wrong?"_ he asked through their bond.

"_I...I feel uneasy about this. I don't like having to go deep into the Shadowlands where we have no idea what await us. I also don't trust that Wookie," _she stated with obvious dislike toward their transporter.

"_I don't like Gorwooken either, but he's all we've got right now. I know what you mean about going down here; I have a bad feeling about it too. If killing this other Wookie was so important to Chuundar, why couldn't he have sent some of his own people down here already? I think he just wants me dead so he can keep Zaalbar."_

"_Yes, I get that feeling as well. And there's something about this place...it's dark. It..."_ she trailed. Bastila looked into his eyes, unsure if she should continue.

"_It what?"_ he asked, slipping his hand into hers and giving a gentle squeeze. She glanced down at their intertwined hands, then back at him.

"_It's upsetting,"_ she said feeling ashamed that she was admitting a weakness to him. Bastila figured he probably thought she was a coward and a fool for being so timid, but all she saw in his face was compassion.

"_Hey, don't be embarrassed that you're afraid. I'll be honest with you, there have been more times on this mission that I've thought I was going to wet myself than I can count."_

She struggled to suppress the laughter that was threatening to break through at his confession. _"I'm glad you didn't. That would have been awkward."_

He smiled, and she heard him laughing through their bond. _"Yeah, I can see it now. Us, facing five Dark Jedi; I say "Bring it on, you schuttas!", they laugh, draw their lightsabers, I scream like a little girl, wet myself, and then pass out."_

This time, she couldn't help the giggle that escaped her mouth. Both Juhani and Gorwooken turned to face her, the latter giving a look of distaste.

"Sorry," she mumbled looking down. _"Don't do that again!"_

"_My bad. But seriously, I don't think you're a coward or a fool for being scared."_

"_You knew I thought that?"_

"_Well yeah. You didn't shield it from me, so it was almost like hearing you talk to yourself. Except in my head."_

"_Have I been doing that this whole time?"_ she asked, slightly panicked.

"_No. Very rarely do I hear what you're thinking. It usually only happens when I'm talking to you like this, through our bond, or if it's a particularly strong thought or emotion. But that's only happened a couple of times." _His brows now furrowed in thought. _"Wait, isn't the Star Map going to be down here? I mean, we did see it sitting on what looked like a forest floor."_

"_Hmm, I think you're right. I guess we'll find out soon enough, we're about to land."_

Looking around, Vincent realized Bastila was right. Quickly, he stepped out of the basket, his eyes roving in all directions for any possible predators. Unfortunately, he spotted a very nasty, very efficient predator barely more than twenty feet away.

"You've given me quite the chase, my friend."

"Calo," Vincent stated coldly, addressing the infamous bounty hunter who was standing before him. Vincent had met Calo Nord on Taris, where he was working for a man named Davik Kang. Davik was connected with the Exchange, an intergalactic crime syndicate, and he was presumably hiring Calo for some dirty work. Calo was possibly the best bounty hunter there was, and Vincent had already seen his skill on two occasions. He did not wish to see it again.

"Hang on, Calo. Maybe we can work out a deal..."

"Sorry, but I'm not in it for the credits," the bounty hunter explained. "See, you're the only ones who've ever gotten away from me. I've got a rep to protect, you know." Calo pulled out his blasters slowly, a malicious grin forming on his face. "Kill them."

It was then that Vincent noticed the two Wookies come slinking out of the shadows. Reaching for his lightsaber, Vincent cursed his luck and the planet he was on. Mentally, he sighed. _"Ah, damn. Bastila, please stay close to me. I doubt the Council would be happy with me if I let you get killed."_

"_Well, thanks a lot. It's good to know you care."_

"_Oh shove it, you know what I mean. Under no circumstances will you die, got it?"_

"_Yes, I understand."_

"_Good," _he finished, turning his full attention to Calo and his Wookie companions. And just in time, as all three of them threw grenades at Vincent and his party. Rolling out of the way and barely missing the blasts, Vincent stayed low in a crouched position. Bastila and Juhani were close together, their lightsabers drawn and ready for combat. **Two seconds into the battle, and already she gets separated from me. That woman is impossible!** The two Wookies had put away their bowcasters and replaced them with vibroswords, twirling them expertly. Calo began to fire away with his blasters, and Vincent focused on trying to deflect the fire back at the bounty hunter, but to no avail. Even when he did manage to land a hit, Calo's armor simply deflected the blast right back. The bounty hunter was ridiculously protected inside his armor shell.

Bastila and Juhani were busy fighting the Wookies, and seemed to be faring well. Bastila's double-bladed lightsaber was dealing major damage, and Juhani's skill was severely outclassing her opponent's. Vincent was slowly making his way closer to Calo, still deflecting every blaster bolt that the smaller man sent his way. Step by step, he closed in, his eyes never leaving the bounty hunter's face. Vincent dimly realized that one of the Wookies with Calo was dead, and the other was fading fast, but all that mattered to him was Calo. Vincent was close enough to strike, and he did so with speed and power. Still, he nearly missed his opponent as the bounty hunter deftly rolled out of the way. His speed and dexterity surprised Vincent, and for a moment, he paused. A very bad idea, as a well aimed shot from Calo's blaster burned into his side. He grunted in pain, drawing the attention of his two friends.

"_You're hurt?"_ Bastila asked, concern tingeing her voice.

"_I'm fine. It's nothing, he just got lucky."_

"_Oh really? Well he's about to get unlucky."_

He soon figured out what Bastila meant when a yellow blade protruded through Calo's neck.

"So, the infamous bounty hunter Calo Nord meets his demise at the hands of an angry, overprotective woman. I like it," he said.

"Angry? Yes. Overprotective? No. If I remember correctly, that's your job. I was simply robbed of the opportunity to be the first one to give you a major injury."

"That hurts." He suddenly winced in real pain. "Ah, now _that_ hurts."

Shaking her head, Bastila treated his injury easily. "You really must be more careful. I can't go around healing you all of the time."

"Well, I think I can have a little more reckless abandon now that I've got Calo's armor. This suit is ridiculous. I mean, his own blaster fire didn't even singe it. I've got to get this on."

"Please tell me you aren't going to change right here," Bastila said quickly. The thought of him changing in front of her was not something she needed to distract her.

"Do you want me to die?" She shook her head. "Then no, I'm not changing right here. Hey," he called to Gorwooken. "You aren't going to leave, are you?"

(I will stay here and await your return. If you ever do,) the Wookie added maliciously.

Vincent had an odd feeling that Gorwooken was trying to pull something shifty, and he didn't like it. Ignoring his conspiracy theories for the moment, Vincent walked over to a broken droid he had spotted a few moments earlier before the battle with Calo. Inspecting it, he found that it had recorded something. Playing back the recording, he watched intently as a ship's crew came into view. They were talking, and Vincent heard one of the crew members ask where Matton was. He immediately remembered that a certain Matton Dasol had been held in service to a merchant named Eli because Matton's crew had run off. Returning his attention back to the recording, he was only mildly surprised to see Eli, armed with a blaster, come out of nowhere and kill all of the crew. Vincent sighed and began to remove the droid's head. Sometimes the greed and seemingly inborn evil of people troubled him. He had little time to ponder this, however, as an energy discharge flowed throughout the rest of the droid causing it to explode. Singed and now on his butt, Vincent distinctly heard the laughter of his two female companions. Hopping deftly to his feet, he simply placed the droid head in his pack and walked on, ignoring the two giggling women. He had thought the creatures on the upper levels of Kashyyyk were vicious, but they were nothing compared to the animals that dwelled below.

If the weaker creatures were fierce, then the only word to describe the inhabitants of the Shadowlands was lethal. Or maybe murderous. They seemed to be...almost possessed.

Vincent instinctively reached for his lightsaber when he heard the sound of combat up ahead. Walking cautiously, he was incredibly surprised to see a man fighting off a pack of four katarns. What was unique about this man was the fact that he was wielding a green lightsaber. Apparently, the man had noticed them because he approached Vincent after disposing of the predators.

"Ah, the damnable racket of battle! Follow me to my home, and we'll talk there."

"Who are you?" Vincent asked, slightly taken aback by the man's forwardness.

"I'm Jolee Bindo. And you are?" the man asked gruffly.

"Vincent. And this is Bastila and Juhani," he answered, indicating his friends.

"Humph. This isn't the place to be having a civil chat. Come on, follow me. You can't miss my home, it's under a log. Yeah, I live like some burrowing rodent."

Still mystified by Jolee's odd manner, Vincent followed, albeit slowly. The old man hadn't been lying when he said his house was under a log. Though Jolee's home lacked the usual comforts of modern day living, it still looked cozy and inviting.

"Well, here's my home, such as it is. Pull up a stump and be comfortable. We've got a lot to talk about."

"Yes, I have a feeling I can actually learn something from you."

"Huh, youngsters these days! No manners..."

"I didn't mean to be rude; I just meant you look like you know what you're doing."

"Do I now? But I'm sure you're full of questions."

"Uh, yes actually. Do you know anything about a Star Map? I have reason to believe it's down here."

"Looking for ancient Star Map, are you? Yes, I know what you're talking about. But before I help you, you must help me with something. I need you to do me a favor. Two actually. First, I want you to get rid of those infernal poachers! They're hunting the little primates, the Tachs. The Tachs are defenseless, you see, and I don't take kindly to people messing in my garden either!"

"Ok. Where are these poachers?"

"To the northwest of here. Oh, and I would prefer if this didn't end in bloodshed."

"Why would I kill them?" Vincent asked genuinely surprised Jolee would bring that up.

"I don't know, why would you? Anyway, after you remove the poachers, I want to travel with you. Twenty years down here, and an old man's seen enough."

"Fine. I'll be back when the poachers are gone," he said while walking away. "So, which one of you wants to wait it out while Jolee goes adventuring with us? Or do we want to expand our little group to four people?"

"I will stay," Juhani offered.

"You sure?"

"Yes, I am sure. And no Bastila, nothing you say will change my mind," the Cathar stated before Bastila could protest. "I do not wish to separate you from your bond-mate. I imagine that would not be pleasant."

Vincent was rather amazed that Juhani had been able to pick out the fact that he and Bastila shared a Force bond. They hadn't made it a public thing, and Juhani was not overly social. Apparently just ridiculously perceptive. Shaking his head at the constant surprises that his friends never failed to conjure up, Vincent nearly slowed to a stop. He could see the poachers from here, not to mention the mines they had set up around the perimeter.

"Watch out for the mines," he muttered, stepping gingerly around them. Approaching a man who looked to be the commander, he attempted to initiate a conversation. "D'you run this place?"

"Yes, I'm Commander Dern. What do you want?"

"Are you the men who've been poaching the Tachs?"

"Now now, there's no need to be so harsh. I prefer to think of it as 'utilizing' the Tachs. You see, they have a special gland that is the main ingredient in Tarisian ale, and since the destruction of Taris, Tarisian ale has been rather scarce. I figure I've got two or three years to kill the lot of these monkeys and make a fortune selling their glands. You want in before I make them extinct?"

"No, I want you to leave."

"Leave?" Dern looked at him curiously. "Has that old kook Jolee recruited you to do his dirty work? Well you can just forget it! As long as the Tach are here, and the sonic emitters keep the preds at bay, we're staying here."

Seeing that the conversation with Commander Dern was getting nowhere, he excused himself politely. Not only was the camp protected by a good supply of mines set on the perimeter, but there were a number of sonic emitters as well. As Dern had stated, they served to keep the predators at bay by emitting a sonic wave that was unbearable to the ears of the animals. Casually walking over to one of the men guarding the emitter, Vincent learned that conditions here were bad, and that none of the men really wanted to be here. However, if they tried to run, Commander Dern would shoot them before they got two feet. One man had tried it already, and met an untimely demise.

"What if one of these emitters, say, 'mysteriously' stopped working?" he asked quietly.

"Well, we could leave if the emitters broke down." The guard handed him a small access card. "Here. This card has the code to disable the emitter. Good luck."

Making sure that Dern was looking the other way, Vincent quickly shut off the emitter. One other guard had seen this, and peered at Vincent curiously before a wave of realization dawned on his face. The guard quickly motioned for Vincent to come over to where his sonic emitter was.

"Hey, if you shut this one down, that should negate the sonic field around this place. We should be able to leave if a predator attacks, and I've heard scouting reports lately. There's a huge creature lurking around, but he can't get near us because of these emitters. Take this, and shut mine off."

Repeating the procedure as with the previous sonic emitter, Vincent once again shut the machine off. Sure enough, he immediately heard the thundering footsteps of an enormous predator. Grabbing both Bastila and Juhani, he pressed them into a small crevice in the rock wall they were standing near. Vincent couldn't fit, he was too big, but he pressed his back to the crack, hoping to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Within thirty seconds, a gigantic creature came barreling through the camp sending men scattering in all directions.

The animal was a walking death trap. Practically every inch of its body was covered with spikes, and claws that were easily two feet long jutted out from each finger of the creature. Similar claws adorned its feet, and the spikes on its tail were just as large. It was a sickly green color, and Vincent could see that it had rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth. Thankfully, the creature ignored Vincent for the moment, thrashing everything in the camp and then continuing on.

"I think we should go back to Jolee now. These poachers definitely won't be coming back anytime soon," Vincent said while helping the two women extricate themselves from the crevice.

"That was quite ingenious, Vincent," Juhani complimented as they retraced the route back to Jolee's hut.

"What, hiding both of you in a crevice?" The Cathar nodded, admiration showing in her features. Vincent laughed nervously. "Uh, thanks Juhani. I just wanted to make sure neither of you got hurt."

Bastila felt a pang of jealousy course through her like fire, dieing out as quickly as it came. She was being foolish; Juhani was not trying to seduce Vincent, and she had no reason to think that the Cathar was attempting to do so. Still, Bastila had a hard time pushing the feelings of envy from her mind. An earlier statement from Vincent came back to her: _"The infamous bounty hunter Calo Nord meets his demise at the hands of an angry, overprotective woman." _Was she being overprotective? She hoped not. As much training as she had received, Bastila still struggled with keeping her emotions in check. She had never been very good at hiding what she was feeling, and she could only pray that Vincent was not overly perceptive. Unfortunately for her, he was _very_ perceptive. Especially when it came to her. Bastila had noticed this early on, and was slightly unnerved by it. She had found him staring at her on occasion, studying her intently. His gaze was intense, burning and heavy, and she always had a hard time staring him in the eyes, afraid of what she might see. The eyes were the windows to the soul, and she did not want to peer into that man's core. Not after what he had done...

"I've taken care of the poachers, Jolee," she heard Vincent say.

"So you have. And you don't have an aura of death about you...that's good. I'll take you to what you seek, but if you have anything to take care of at the surface, I suggest you do so now. We could be in the lower Shadowlands for a while."

"Hmm, I do have something that needs to be dealt with. Juhani, do you think you help me?"

"What is it you require of me?"

"You remember that merchant, Eli? How he was holding Mr. Dasol for some debt that Dasol's crew didn't pay?"

"Yes," the Cathar answered.

"Take this droid head to them. Show it to both men, but be careful. I don't want anyone to get hurt, so I want you to strongly encourage Matton Dasol not to get violent. Ok?"

"I will do what you've asked. If you don't mind, I will wait at the ship after that."

"That's fine. Thanks Juhani." Vincent turned back to Jolee. "So, I guess you're with us now. Oh, hey, can I use your house for a sec?"

"What do you need to go inside my house for?"

"I want to change."

"Change! Into what? A pretty tutu?"

"No," Vincent said, struggling to stay calm at Jolee's incessant teasing. "I'd like to put this armor on, if you don't mind."

"Fine kid, go ahead. Make it quick."

Vincent was back outside in two minutes flat, clad in Calo Nord's armor.

"That fits you?" Bastila asked skeptically.

"Yeah, the armor stretches. Cool, huh?"

"How can it stretch that much? I mean, Calo must've been barely over five feet tall."

"I don't know how it stretched that much! It just did. And it's comfortable too, which is a major plus, since normal armor, for me at least, is kind of small."

"Well, it's your fault you're over six feet tall."

"Yeah? Women like tall men, so back off."

"And what if I don't like tall men?"

"Ah, but you do."

"You know this how?"

"You like me."

"I do not."

"Yes you do."

"No I do not."

"Liar."

"Idiot."

"Ice Princess."

"Nerf-herder."

They both stopped at the sound of Jolee chuckling. "I do believe the pretty young lady just beat you Vincent. C'mon you two, we need to get going. I'm not getting any younger, you know! Czerka's constructed some stupid repulsor field to block off the path to the lower Shadowlands, but I can get you past it."

Jolee easily lead them to where the repulsor field stood, shimmering brightly with a purple hue in stark contrast with the forest.

"Beautifully subtle, isn't it? It had to be, or else the Wookies would have taken it apart by now, though they wouldn't have had an easy time of it."

"I trust you can get us past this?"

"I said I could, didn't I?" the old man replied crossly. "But I can only manipulate it for a moment. Now, how did those Czerka mechanics do it? Ah, yes. There you go, hurry up. It won't stay open forever."

Vincent didn't believe it was possible, but they were actually going _lower_ into the forests of Kashyyyk. They were walking along a path that looked as if it had been worn with centuries of use. Not much further on, the group spotted a Wookie in heated combat with a Mandalorian soldier, while three other Mandalorians watched.

"What are Mandalorians doing down here?" he heard Bastila wonder aloud. He had no clue, but the Wookie had defeated his enemy, and was now being attacked by the other Mandalorians. Vincent could easily see that the Wookie wasn't going to make it. Igniting his violet lightsaber, he charged at the nearest armored opponent. Though the Mandalorian was obviously a raw recruit, he still possessed incredible skill with a blade. Vincent was hard pressed to land a clean hit on the man, and more than once was nearly hit himself. They were locked in a deadly dance, and Vincent was determined to come out the victor. He could hear the Mandalorian's heavy breathing, and he noticed the man's strikes were becoming less precise than before. Leaping on this advantage, Vincent let loose with a flurry of quick strikes than knocked the Mandalorian off of his balance and forced him careening backwards in an effort not to fall. Smashing his opponent's weapon to the ground, he planted his right foot and pivoted so he was facing away from the Mandalorian. Quickly flipping his lightsaber so the blade was pointing behind him and parallel the ground, Vincent jammed it backwards, shoving it through the other man's chest. The Mandalorian dropped soundlessly, dead before his body hit the ground. Vincent turned just in time to duck the vibroblade that was now flying at his head. Rolling away from his new adversary, Vincent wiped sweat out of his eyes.

"_Bastila, I could use some help!"_ he called to her. She turned, sizing up the situation that had presented itself.

"_Charge him," _she ordered. Trusting her completely, he did as she asked. The Mandalorian never had a chance as Vincent rushed him from the front while Bastila attacked him from behind. He grunted in pain as one lightsaber sliced off his left arm while another slashed him across the stomach, both wounds combining to become fatal. Blood dribbling out from underneath his helmet, the Mandalorian collapsed to the ground.

(Great Bacca, let this outsider be different from the others! Please, can you heal me?)

Vincent hastily found a medipac and gave it to the injured Wookie.

(Thank you, outsider. You are kinder than the others, the Czerka scum that plague this place. I must ask of you one other thing. These Mandalorians, they have slain my brethren, and I wish revenge. I would do this myself, but I am too weak to continue fighting, and the armored warriors tend to ambush you. They will only appear when you are unarmed, the cowards.)

"I will help you if I can. Are the bodies of you friends still there?"

(Yes. Unarm yourself when you see their corpses, for the invisible Mandalorians will not be far behind.)

"You know, there is another Wookie down here named Freyyr. I helped him escape some Czerka slavers a while back."

"And just how far is 'a while back'?"

"Oh, about ten years. Not too long."

"Isn't Freyyr Zaalbar's father?" Bastila asked.

"You're right. Do you know where Freyyr is now, Jolee?"

"Shh...look," the old man said, indicating the ground. Dead Wookies littered the forest floor, freshly slain.

"Put your weapons away," Vincent ordered remembering what the Wookie, whom he learned was named Grrrwahrr, had said about the Mandalorians. Sure enough, a group of three Mandalorians, clad in telltale blue armor, appeared fully armed and ready for combat. Though menacing in appearance, the Mandalorians were not as deadly as they seemed. The three Jedi had no problem defeating them and the other groups they encountered. In their explorations, the group came across three swoop bikes that showed signs of recent use. Using one of the data pads he had picked up off a Mandalorian corpse, Vincent deactivated the stealth field generator that served as the cloaking device for the Mandalorians. As soon as he did so, yet another group of invisible warriors appeared out of thin air.

"You are interrupting our hunt, interloper. The inhabitants of this planet have given us little challenge, but perhaps you will be a more worthy foe," a Mandalorian in red armor spoke.

"I'll be the last foe you ever see," Vincent growled, lighting his violet blade. The simultaneous hiss of two other lightsabers let him know his friends were behind him for the fight that lay ahead. One of the warriors threw a flash grenade, momentarily blinding Vincent. The fool Mandalorian thought he could attack him head on while he was still sightless, and this notion proved to be the recruit's death. Though Vincent couldn't see, he could still feel the Mandalorian's movements through the Force, and he easily parried the first strike from his enemy's vibroblade. Force pushing his opponent backwards, he turned to the leader of the group. Stunning him, Vincent let Bastila take care of the rest. Jolee was already hassling the other Mandalorian, and the idiot that Vincent had sent flying into a tree was just picking himself up off the ground. He threw his lightsaber at the man, killing him before he got to his feet. Calling his weapon back, Vincent turned and ran toward the Mandalorian in red armor that still wasn't dead yet, despite the fact that Bastila had been hacking him mercilessly. Jumping, he flipped in mid-air and brought his lightsaber down with all of his strength on the Mandalorian's left shoulder, slicing diagonally as he landed. He needed proof that he had killed the leader of the Mandalorians, and he planned on using the red one's helmet to show Grrrwahrr that he had indeed complied with the Wookie's request. Slumping to ground, Vincent rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted, and he knew he needed rest soon, or else he was going to make a fatal mistake. Hauled to his feet by Jolee, Vincent shook his head in an effort to chase away his fatigue.

"Don't fade on me now. You're young, and you can take more of a beating than I can, so don't be faking tiredness. Besides, I saw Freyyr on the way here. You need to find him, right?"

"Take us to him please," Bastila said earnestly. Vincent would have agreed, but he had lost the capability to speak. An odd vision was playing itself out before his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

This chapter is an immediate continuation of the last. This will also be the last update for this week, as I'll be in a basketball tournament in Dallas for the whole friggin' time. Oh well. Hope you like it!

Oh, and when you get to the Star Map part, I couldn't remember all of the questions that the hologram asked, so I think I ended up leaving out one of them. Just a heads up.

* * *

"_Master," Malak said, exhaustion evident in his voice. "We cannot go on for much longer. We've searched everywhere, and the Star Map is nowhere to be found. We're nearly out of water, we've been out of food for days, and...this...this is pointless!"_

_Revan was at Malak in an instant, choking him with the Force, their faces inches apart. "How dare you question me?" Revan's voice said, distorted by the mask he wore. The filter caused it to be deep and menacing, perfect for a Sith Lord. "The Star Map is down here somewhere, and we are not leaving until we find it! And if I have to leave you here to die, I will. Your weakness disgusts me. You claim to be my apprentice, yet you have learned nothing from what I have taught you." _

_The Sith Lord tossed Malak aside contemptuously, leaving him writhing on the ground, gasping for air._

"_For...forgive me...my lord. I should not have spoken."_

_Revan ignored his apprentice and continued to walk, reaching a small clearing. Turning right, he stopped in front of a huge structure._

"_Finally," Revan spoke, triumph flooding his voice. "See Malak? I am seldom ever wrong. I should punish you for your lack of faith, but I do not wish for you to perish just yet."_

And then it stopped. Vincent had been standing, unmoving for a solid two minutes, staring vacantly into space.

"Dammit boy, snap out of it!" Jolee said while slapping his face roughly. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"I...I know where the Star Map is," he said shakily. "Follow me."

"Aren't we supposed to be talking to Freyyr?" Jolee asked.

"Yes, that is important, but we are on a mission from the Jedi Council to locate these Star Maps in an effort to stop Malak," Bastila explained. They had now reached the same structure Vincent had seen in his vision, and Jolee was saying something in his usual grumpy manner.

"I knew where this thing was. I wouldn't have brought you down here if I didn't."

Vincent ignored the old man and stepped up to the hologram that was floating on a small platform.

"Sentient life forms recognized. Preliminary neural scan complete. Match found."

"What the-match found? The thing always said something about 'rejected patterns' for me!" Jolee said in a huff.

"How do I open the Star Map?" Vincent asked.

"Access denied. Probability of restriction by previous user: 100 percent. You do not match the exact patterns found in my database. Reconfiguration must take place. You must be tested."

"If I pass this test, can I access the Star Map?"

"I cannot say. Probability of that occurring is high."

"And if I fail?"

"Then you will be dealt with."

"Ok...start the test then."

"Hypothetical: You and this Zaalbar are captured. You face charges of murder and treason. If you accuse Zaalbar, face either two years in prison if he is innocent, or none if he is found guilty. If you both stay silent, you face either one year in prison, or five if you are guilty. What do you do?"

Vincent was slightly alarmed. He didn't really know that much about Zaalbar...and his family did have issues with lies. "I would accuse Zaalbar to be safe."

"Correct. Zaalbar's family is mired in treachery, and you wisely trade the possibility of two years for none. Evaluation will continue. Hypothetical: You are the leader of the Republic, and you are at war. Your spies intercept a transmission that says there will be a weakness in the enemy's forces in ten days. Said enemy will attack your city in five days. What do you do?"

Vincent quickly sized up the possibilities in his head. "My forces attack in ten days."

"Correct. If you had evacuated the city, the enemy would have been alerted to its lost transmission. You wisely allowed the loss of life for the ultimate victory. Evaluation will continue. Hypothetical: Same situation as before, but you are not at war. Your Republic has stagnant and decaying, and your people have grown complacent. Your enemies are small and weak, but you learn that they will attack you in five days. What do you do?"

"I let the attack happen," Vincent answered.

"Correct. Your people will rally under you against the common threat. Evaluation complete. Neural reconfiguration complete. Welcome. You may now access the Star Map. Shutting off."

The Star Map began to hum, and it opened. A projection of the galaxy appeared, and Vincent downloaded it on his data pad. Turning, he found that Bastila was staring at him, her expression unreadable.

"What?"

"The way you answered those questions...people died, Vincent. You sacrificed innocent lives."

His eyes narrowed, and he pointed a finger at her. "Have you ever fought in a war?"

"No, but I don't see – "

"Then don't tell me how to play with people's lives."

Bastila looked at Jolee who simply shrugged. "You ready to see Freyyr now?" he asked Vincent.

"Yeah, let's go."

Jolee was in front of the group with Vincent and Bastila lagging behind.

"Did I say something to upset you?" Bastila asked.

He looked at her, an apology written on his features. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I just don't really like being reminded of the Mandalorian Wars. I...I had to make those kinds of decisions. Who lives and who dies. It's hard to live with knowing you killed good, innocent men, just to win a battle. But let's talk about this later, ok? I just want to deal with Freyyr right now."

Bastila nodded. She should have remembered that he fought in the Mandalorian Wars. How could she forget? That was the whole reason he was here with them now. Well, that and the fact that his best friend betrayed him. Her thoughts were interrupted by the menacing growl of an angry Wookie.

(Even the depths of the Shadowlands are not safe from your kind!)

"All these years down here have made him nearly feral," Jolee said sadly. "This won't be good."

Freyyr didn't wait for them to explain their presence, he simply attacked wildly, giving them little choice but to fight back. Though the Wookie was incredibly strong, he was no match for three Jedi.

(You have beaten me. Please, end my suffering quickly, or let me live if you find a purpose for me yet.)

"I don't want to kill you! My name is Vincent, and my friend Zaalbar needs your help," Vincent said, hoping that would get through to Freyyr.

(My son is alive? Then Chuundar must be stopped. There is one thing I can think of that might sway my people's favor. If I can appeal to their sense of tradition, maybe I can get them to see Chuundar's lies. But I must ask something of you Vincent.)

"I'll help in any way I can."

(You must find Bacca's blade. It was lost in a ceremonial beast fight a generation ago. The young Wookie that participated escaped with his life, but the blade stayed lodged in the creature's hide. You must face the creature and bring back the blade. It is the only way I can save my people, and my son.)

Vincent had seen a small cul-de-sac that looked as if it served ceremonial purposes when they had been exploring earlier. If he was to draw out the beast, he was going to need bait. Luckily, he spotted a lone viper kinrath not far from the ritual site. Killing it, he kept the body and made his way back to the ceremonial area where Jolee and Bastila were waiting. Tying the kinrath body to the vine, Vincent waited. His patience was rewarded as the same beast who had destroyed the poacher's camp came crashing through the forest into the clearing.

"A tarentatek," he heard Jolee say. Vincent remembered that the tarentateks had the ability to use the Force, yet had an inborn resistance to it.

"So Force powers are out of the question?" he asked.

"Oh yeah. The only thing that'll do is make it angrier. And it's already really angry."

"_Be careful," _he said to Bastila.

"_Vincent, I have no intention of killing myself."_

"_Why do you have to argue with me?"_

"_I'm not – alright, I'll be careful. Happy?"_

"_No."_

The tarentatek was staring at Bastila, and Vincent felt his stomach knot up. He had failed to notice before that the creature had two massive tusks on either side of its mouth, and it was now lowering its head in preparation to charge. **Oh damn...**

"Bastila MOVE!" He yelled running at her. The tarentatek had begun its charge, and was heading straight for her. She still wasn't moving. "Dammit, get out of the way!"

Bastila had a horrified expression on her face, and seemed to be rooted to the ground. Vincent knew he wasn't going to make it to her in time so he concentrated all of his strength into using the Force to send her flying out of the way into Jolee's waiting arms. Unfortunately, Vincent was unable to stop his momentum, and he was now directly in the path of the rampaging tarentatek. He grunted as the huge creature slammed into him at full speed, one of its tusks finding an unprotected spot in his armor and piercing into his torso.

The tarentatek continued to charge, ramming Vincent into the rock wall behind him, and pushing the tusk further into his body. Impaled and completely helpless, Vincent feebly struggled to free himself from the monster's grasp. Suddenly, the tarentatek roared in pain as two lightsabers began to hack away at its unprotected belly. Shaking its head, the creature flung Vincent from his tusk and whirled on the other two Jedi, but it was too late. The wounds from their blades had done their damage, and it fell to its knees before collapsing on the ground in a pool of its own blood.

"Vincent!" he dimly heard Bastila cry as she ran over to his broken body. Her face obscured his vision, and he blinked to try and refocus. "Oh my God...Jolee, help!" There was worry in her eyes, and fear. "Don't you dare die on me!"

"I...I'll try not to."

"Shut up! I don't want you talking, you're hurt badly and you need to save your strength. Jolee! Help me, damn it!"

"There's nothing I can do," the old man said. "I can't treat an injury of that severity. Do you think he'll make it back to my hut?"

Bastila turned back to him, holding his face gently. "Can you make it?"

Vincent wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell her that he could run a marathon if she asked him to, but his body was telling him otherwise. He was slipping, and he knew it. His body was losing a lot of blood, and if it didn't stop soon, he was going to die.

"Not...like this. Need to...stop bleeding," he managed to force out.

"He's right. If we let him keep on like this, he'll bleed to death. We may not be able to heal him on our own, but maybe we can stabilize him," Jolee suggested solemnly.

"We have to try," he heard Bastila say. It was becoming harder for him to concentrate on their voices, and everything around him was growing out of focus and dark. Suddenly, he felt a wave of something course through his body. The pain lessened somewhat, and he could see more clearly than before. "Vincent?" she asked hopefully.

He nodded, knowing that they had bought him some extra time. He didn't remember much of the trip back to Jolee's hut, but it seemed oddly shorter than before. He felt them lowering him onto the ground, and someone's hands fumbling with his armor. Someone forced a horrible tasting liquid down his throat, and something cold and wet was placed over his stomach, presumably where the wound was. He was transferred from the ground to a comfortable bed, and then everything was dark.

Vincent awoke to a dimly lit room and a sharp pain in his stomach. He tried to sit up but was gently pushed back down by a pair of feminine hands.

"Don't get up yet. You're not fully healed." He looked up into Bastila's face. She still looked worried, but now weariness lined her features as well.

"Have you slept?"

She shook her head. "I tried but I couldn't. Not with you in the state you were in."

"How close was I?" he asked quietly, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Jolee said maybe a few more minutes. After that..." she trailed, unable to continue. He noticed unshed tears in her eyes and he gently brushed a stray hair out of her face.

"I'm still here," he said smiling. "I'm hard to kill, you know that."

She smiled hesitantly as well. "Yes, I am glad for that." Bastila looked away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I didn't think you were going to make it. There was blood everywhere...and you were so pale...it was awful."

"Can I see what that damn thing did to me?"

"As long as you don't strain yourself. Here, I'll help you sit up."

Bastila leaned over and wrapped her arms around his upper body, gingerly pulling up. He sat up slowly, grimacing in pain. Vincent attempted to start undoing the bandage that Jolee had made, but Bastila swatted his hands away.

"What, I'm not strong enough to undo a bandage?"

"No, I just don't want you to pull something you shouldn't. I don't know if the cloth has stuck to the wound or not, and I can see better than you can. Now just sit still."

Vincent watched her as she worked on the bandage, her face the picture of concentration. There were smudges of dirt on her forehead and cheeks, and her much of her hair had pulled loose of the normal pigtails she wore it in and fallen in front of her eyes. To Vincent, her eyes were one of her most stunning features. Set behind dark lashes, they were an icy amalgam of blue-grey, and he had found himself staring at those eyes many times. All he had to do was look at them, and he knew what was going on inside of her. They were passionate, full of emotion, and Vincent thought they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Then again, everything about Bastila was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her lips, her neck, her body...everything.

Knowing where his train of thought was heading, he tried to give attention to something else, but with little success. Her hands had quickly unwrapped the dressing that covered his wound, and Vincent felt her cool fingers against his warm flesh, making him shiver involuntarily.

Bastila noticed this and looked at him anxiously. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." He glanced down at his stomach where the telltale signs of a major wound were visible. A large, circle shaped portion of his abdomen was newly formed scar tissue, and it was a pinkish color compared to his tanned skin. "Uh, is that gonna stay like that?"

"Not if we keep the kolto on it."

"Good. I don't need another scar."

She looked at him curiously. "I don't see any scars."

"The light's too low. Here, you might be able to feel some of them," he said, taking her hand and running along his left shoulder and arm. "Never play with vibroblades."

"Mandalorian Wars?"

"Yeah. Most of it's from Dxun."

"How old were you? You must've been quite young."

"I guess so. I was twenty-one, at the beginning of the war, twenty-six by the end."

"I was only sixteen at the start, but I remember it like it was yesterday. How many years has it been since it was over? Four?" She shook her head in amazement. "Time finds a way to slip by you."

Vincent felt...odd. "You're only, what...twenty-five?"

She looked sheepish. "Actually, I just turned twenty-four. I thought you knew that."

"Uh, no. I don't really know anything about you, to be honest. But I'd like to, if you don't mind," he added.

"I guess that's natural considering our bond and everything else. Very well, I'll tell you a little bit about myself. I grew up on Talravin, but I don't remember much about it. I wasn't on good terms with all of my family. I spent most of my young life on a ship, going from one treasure hunt to the next. My father was a treasure hunter, you see. He was a good man though, kind and gentle, and he doted on me."

"So I'm assuming you didn't like your mother?"

"No, I didn't. She was always pushing my father into one hunt after another, constantly looking to live in wealth and luxury. She drove my father too hard, and I hated her for it. She was happy when the Jedi Order came for me, and I can't say that I miss her much."

"I'm sorry. That must've been hard for you to live like that."

"It was all I knew as a child, so I didn't think much about it. But that's why the Jedi Order is right in severing ties with families once you are accepted. Relationships are fraught with powerful emotions, and a Jedi must avoid that. Even love can lead to folly."

"So you're saying Jedi aren't capable of loving?" he asked.

"Even Jedi cannot always ignore the feelings of the heart," she said softly. "But enough about me and my family. What about you? I know little other than what your service records reported."

He had been dreading this question. "Uh, well, you know I grew up on Deralia. Boring planet, lots of rock. Many different species passed through the spaceports though, and I learned a lot of different languages real early in life. I...I don't remember much of my childhood. From what I can recall, my mother was the central figure in my life. She was soft spoken and never complained. She was also stubborn as hell and had a strong spirit and a good heart."

He stopped and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "My father...to put it lightly, he was a drunk. Everything he had went to alcohol, but I think that it wasn't always like that. He raised me right though, I can't blame him for that. I forget what he did for a living, but it was enough to get by. My mother was very unconfrontational, so she and my dad never fought much, but when they did...man, it was scary. I used to lie in my bed for hours listening to them go at it, wondering what it was that was big enough to push my mother over the edge. For as screwed up as my family was, it was still home. I ended up joining the military later, and I got caught up in the Mandalorian War."

"What happened?"

"I was stationed on Dxun, and as you probably know, that was where some of the heaviest fighting of the entire war took place. The Jedi had finally decided to get off their collective asses-no offense-and help us out. I...I met a Jedi there, on Dxun. She was...perfect, but I was young and stupid, so that doesn't mean much now. It was lonely out there, and there was just something about her...but to get to the point, we fell in love. She didn't think much of the rule about no emotional attachments, and I wasn't going to argue. Everything was fine until the final battle up on Dxun. The Mandalorians came at us, wave after wave, relentless, and we lost a lot of men. I didn't find out until a week later that she had been killed in that battle. I didn't so much as glance at another woman for a year after that, but I eventually learned to cope and got on with my life. And here I stand; now relating my incredibly boring life story to you."

"What was her name?" Bastila asked quietly.

"Brynn. I never learned her last name. They wouldn't allow me to access the records on her after her death."

"I'm sorry. That must be painful for you to talk about."

He smiled grimly. "Better out than in and you deserve to know. It's not so much that she died that day that hurts now, but the fact that I still remember the fight we had before being called up to go. The last thing I said to her was that she was being a pretentious bitch. Not good parting words."

They both went silent for a while, pondering what the other had said. Soon, Vincent became restless and got up to stretch and walk around. He stretched gingerly, any sudden movements causing pain to shoot across his abdomen. He also wondered where Jolee was, but decided not to bring it up.

Bastila watched him stretch in fascination. She had known that he was powerfully built, but she still wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted her eyes. Vincent was long, lean and muscular, and his movements carried an air of deadly grace. Every muscle was toned and defined, and Bastila could see them sliding smoothly under his skin with every shift of his body. She remembered the feeling of his skin beneath her fingers, and she had strong desire to touch him again.

"Vincent, I think we should put a fresh bandage on that wound," she said, her subconscious acting on that desire.

"What was that nasty liquid that somebody made me drink earlier?"

"Jolee said it was kolto juice."

"Ugh, it was horrible. But I'd rather drink that again than have an itchy bandage around my waist. Does he have any more?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't see where he got it the first time, and I wouldn't know where to look," she answered truthfully.

"Oh well. You want me to sit up, right?"

"Yes, that would help." Bastila stood and retrieved a fresh set of bandages that had been soaking in kolto. "Actually, if you'd come over here, that would be easier. It won't drip everywhere, and the bed won't get wet this way."

"Sure," he said while walking over to her. Bastila pressed the cold, wet, kolto soaked dressing on his stomach, and he let out a surprised cry. "That's really cold!"

"Sorry," Bastila said. "I can't do anything about that. You're just going to have to deal with it."

Bastila had not noticed this before, but Vincent was a good deal taller than her, and he had at least a good sixty additional pounds to her 125 pound frame, if not more. She also found that to get her arms around him, she had to be quite close to his body. This did not go unnoticed by Vincent. His hands were currently clasped behind his head so as not to get in Bastila's way, and he was once again watching her intently. She had finished with the wet bandages, and was now wrapping a dry one around him so he wouldn't get the sheets on the bed wet.

"There," she said. "All done." Her next words caught in her throat as she felt Vincent's powerful arms slide around her waist and pull her close to him. Her hands immediately went to his chest in an effort to separate their bodies a small degree. "What are you doing?" she managed to whisper.

His face was buried in her hair, and she felt a tingle with every word he spoke. "Mmm...you saved my life, you know that?" His voice was barely above a whisper as well. "You're pushing yourself too hard. Relax," he commanded upon feeling that her body was tense in his embrace. Once he was satisfied that she was no longer stiff, he continued. "You need to sleep." She made to protest, but he cut her off. "Shut up. You're about to collapse where you stand, and worrying about me isn't helping. Go sit on the bed."

He let go of her, and walked over to a bucket of water that was sitting in the corner of the old hermit's house. He grabbed the bucket and a small piece of cloth and knelt in front of Bastila. Dipping the cloth in the water, he gently wiped away the dirt and grime on her face. Next, he unfastened the clasps that held her hair, allowing it to fall freely on her shoulders in elegant waves of dark silk.

"Why don't you wear your hair down more often?"

"It gets in the way."

"It's beautiful," he said, causing her to blush.

"Thank you," she replied quietly. "_Now_ what are you doing?"

"Taking off your shoes. Do you want to be comfortable or not?"

"In order for me to be completely comfortable, I would need a very long, very hot shower."

"Why? You smell good."

"I – how is that possible? We've been running around in this hellish place for hours."

"How am I supposed to know why you still smell great after running around and fighting all day? Maybe you're just one of those people who smell good all the time. They are out there you know," finished while removing her other shoe. "And it's not like I'm complaining. If it makes you feel better, maybe the shampoo you use stays on for a long time. Does it really matter?"

"No," she said, rubbing a sore shoulder. Once again, nothing got by Vincent's ever perceptive gaze, and he moved to sit behind her on the bed. "Vincent..."

"You're a very difficult woman to deal with, you know that? Just shut up and be happy that I'm about to give you a massage."

Bastila felt his large, strong hands rest lightly on her shoulders before beginning to gently knead the aching muscles. It was the most soothing thing she had ever felt, and before she realized it, she had slipped into a peaceful slumber. Vincent noticed this when her body slumped back against his and her head lolled against his chest. Gingerly laying her down upon the bed, he got up and sat in a chair, turning to face her. Now all he had to do was wait for Jolee, wherever the hell that crazy old man was.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys! Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews, I appreciate 'em. Here is the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy it.

And, as always, Read and Review!

* * *

Bastila awoke feeling slightly more refreshed than she had expected. Vincent must have been right; she was pushing herself too hard. Lying there with her eyes still closed, she thought back on the few minutes before she had fallen asleep. She remembered the feeling of being in Vincent's strong arms, the warmth of his body seeping through her clothing, the way she felt completely safe and protected. Suddenly, the thought of what the she and the Council were doing to him struck her, and she shut her eyes even more tightly than before. It was wrong, and she hated it. The Council had decreed that she was to tell him nothing, though she felt it was better to do so than leave him in the dark. 

"Are you just going to lie there all day, or are you going to get up?"

Bastila opened her eyes at the sound of his voice. Sitting up, she saw that he had a stupid, lopsided grin on his face. He looked so innocent sitting there, completely oblivious to everything...

"How did you know I was up?"

He tapped his temple with a finger. "When you're asleep, your aura is different. When you're awake, it's...alive. Vibrant, pulsing. Asleep, it's tranquil and...soft, if you could feel it, I guess."

This man never failed to impress her with the ease in which he controlled the Force. It came so naturally to him that he didn't even appear to think about it. She slid out from under the sheets of the bed and stood up, stretching her tired muscles. A wave of dizziness caught her by surprise, and she felt her legs go weak and begin to crumble beneath her. Vincent was at her side in an instant, gently holding her up.

"Are you alright?" he asked with concern.

Bastila rubbed her eyes and nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. I just stood up too fast, that's all."

"Okay," he said slowly, releasing her with obvious reluctance. For a moment, she felt a flutter in her stomach. She had been allowed a brief glimpse into his mind in that instant that he had caught her. The depth and power with which his emotions flowed through to her was frightening, but she had been given a small measure of comfort. In that split second, she had touched some of the feelings that he held for her, and their intensity had surprised her.

She realized that he was looking at her oddly. "Are you sure you're okay?" Vincent inquired with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'm fine. I just...it's nothing," she lied. Attempting to distract herself from the fact that he was staring at her intently, Bastila went over to Jolee's sink and began to brush her teeth.

"You felt something, didn't you?" Vincent asked when she was done.

"What?"

"You felt something in me when I caught you."

She swallowed nervously. His voice carried no trace of emotion, but that didn't mean anything to her. He was very good at hiding things, and the coolness in which he had stated the truth was unsettling.

"I...I didn't mean to," she began. "I...it just...happened."

He didn't answer her. Rubbing his face with his hands, he sighed heavily. Walking over to the sink Bastila had previously occupied, he turned on the water and splashed his face a couple of times before brushing his own teeth. He grabbed a small mirror that was sitting next to the sink and stared into it for a few seconds. He looked horrible. His face was pale and haggard, his normally electrifying green eyes were dull and bloodshot, and it looked as if someone had smacked him around with a blunt object.

"I look like shit don't I?" he asked turning to Bastila.

"Am I supposed to answer that?"

"I'll take that as a yes." He fingered the stubble that cast a dark shadow on his jaw, and a thoughtful look passed over his face. "Do you think I should grow this out? Just around here," he said, indicating the area around his mouth.

Bastila had a brief vision of herself on the bridge of the Dark Lord Revan's ship, removing the mask from the Sith Lord as his life hung in the balance. She had expected to see a horribly twisted and evil face, but she was instead met with an incredibly handsome picture of a man. The only thing to indicate that he was a disciple of the Dark side was his ashen skin and the neatly trimmed beard that encircled his mouth, commonly worn among Sith. His eyes betrayed him as well, a shockingly pale color of green, so much so that they were almost white...

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Vincent's voice. "Bas, are you _sure_ you're okay?"

She blinked. He had never called her that before. Was she alright? She didn't think so.

"I'm fine, just thinking. You can grow it out if you want to."

"But do you think it would look good?"

"It matters what you think, not what I think."

"I happen to value your opinion," he said seriously. "It's not like I can't shave it if I don't like it anyway. I'll let grow out."

Vincent fell silent, his eyes becoming far away and distant. He was remembering the vision of Revan and Malak that had manifested itself in the Lower Shadowlands before he had been speared by the tarentatek. Jolee was now back, and he and Bastila were talking. Their voices seemed muffled, and he couldn't make out what they were saying, no matter how hard he tried. Abruptly, other voices became intelligible though there was no one else in the room. Vincent dimly realized that he was having another vision.

_The other voices faded away, and he soon found himself staring at the cold metal walls of a starship. Turning, he found that he was in a large room, comfortably furnished, though it lacked true decoration. Revan was sitting on the edge of a sizeable bed, his back to Vincent. A pretty young woman entered the room and walked over to where Revan was. _

"_What do you want?" the Dark Lord asked with obvious contempt._

"_M...m'lord," the woman stammered, "your apprentice, Malak, sent me. He thought you might want company." She hesitated again, shifting uncomfortably. Revan stood, and Vincent could see that his face was still covered by a mask. The man raised an uncovered hand to the young woman's face and trailed a finger along her cheek._

"_Most people are not comfortable in my presence. It is something that I have grown accustomed to." Revan paused as if thinking, then continued. "My apprentice sent you?" The woman nodded meekly. The Sith Lord made a disapproving noise and began to pace the room. "I want you to go back to him. Tell him that I would like to speak with him. Can you do that for me?" he finished, his voice almost tender._

"_Yes, my lord. Of course. Is there anything else you would like me to tell him?"_

"_No, that will be all." The woman turned to leave. "Tell him to make it quick," he added as if thinking of it for the first time._

"_Yes sir."_

_Within minutes, Malak strode through the door. "You wished to see me Master?"_

_Revan had been standing with his back to the door, but turned when Malak entered. He advanced toward his apprentice with purposeful strides, stopping barely two feet away from the taller man. Without warning, the Dark Lord lashed out viciously with an incredibly powerful right hook, catching Malak completely by surprise. Though the punch had been intended for Malak's jaw, the apprentice had turned just in time to have Revan's fist impact with his nose, crushing it painfully. Staggering backward with blood pouring from his broken nose, a flicker of fear clouded his eyes for a moment._

"_Why did you send that woman in?" Revan hissed, his body rigid with anger._

"_I thought you might want something..." Malak winced in pain, "...to take your mind off things."_

"_You thought so, hmm? How noble of you." Revan brought his hand up threateningly. "Don't do it again," he stated coldly. "If I want a whore, I'll call for one. I don't need you making decisions for me, my apprentice. Or are you getting delusions of grandeur? What next? Will you decide on how to torture Republic captives? Or maybe you'll tell my fleet where to attack next? ANSWER ME!" Revan thundered, thrusting a powerful force wave at Malak which sent him flying into the wall._

"_Ne...never, Master."_

"_Never?" the Dark Lord said with amusement. "Ah, you still have much to learn, even since your lesson on Kashyyyk. You say you will never challenge my authority, yet you know it is the way of the Sith to do so. You blatantly lied to my face, Malak."_

"_My lord, I did not mean – " Malak began to whimper._

"_Get out! Your sniveling wearies me." _

"Vincent!"

His head snapped up at the sound of Jolee's voice calling his name. "What?" he asked dumbly.

"You've been sitting there staring at the wall for five minutes, completely ignoring everything we've said to you."

"Oh, sorry."

"What's wrong with you boy?" the old man asked, a hint of genuine concern in his voice. Vincent hesitated. He wasn't sure if he should tell them about his visions, they might think he had gone mad. But he didn't see any other way out of this...

Sighing, Vincent began to explain. "I've been having these visions. Not like the ones of the Star Map," he said when Bastila opened her mouth to speak. "They're a lot clearer, and a lot longer too. I keep seeing Revan and Malak. The first time, I saw them find the Star Map down here on Kashyyyk. Just now, I saw Revan punch the shit out of Malak and break his nose for sending in some 'company'. They were on a ship that time."

"Do you ever see Revan's face?" Bastila asked in a slightly panicked voice.

"No, it's covered by that mask he always wore. It distorts his voice too."

"As much as I would love to have a counseling session, we need to get back to Rwookrrorro village. Now," Jolee said firmly.

"Lemme guess," Vincent began, "you found Bacca's blade, gave it back to Freyyr, and now Freyyr's gone to challenge Chuundar?"

"Exactly."

"Okay, that's great, but I have no clue where my armor is."

"Over there," the old man pointed, indicating a small closet.

Dressing quickly, Vincent clipped his lightsaber to his belt and met Jolee and Bastila outside the hut. They made their way as quickly as possible to the upper boughs of Kashyyyk, and were escorted to Chuundar's hut upon reaching the Great Walkway.

Inside the hut, the tension was thick enough to slice with a vibroblade. Wookies and humans alike were shifting in nervous anticipation, and everyone's hands were near their weapons.

"So...what did I miss?" began Vincent, directing his question to Freyyr.

(We are at an impasse,) the Wookie stated tersely. (Chuundar has the hilt of Bacca's sword and I have the blade, both artifacts of great importance. My son does not know who to side with. I am hoping you can help him.)

"Zaalbar, who do you think is right?" Vincent asked his friend.

(Chuundar has been telling me things, things that make sense. But I just don't know. I hate slavery but...)

"There's your answer. If you hate slavery, then why would you support it? Your father wants a second chance. Help him."

(I was hoping that I wouldn't have to kill you brother,) Chuundar stated,(but I guess I was wrong. That's too bad. Kill them!) the Wookie ordered.

The ensuing battle was tantamount to a drunken brawl. The hut was not suited for a group the size of a small crowd, nor was it well ventilated, and smoke from blaster fire soon hung in a thick, grey cloud that severely impaired vision. Vincent could barely see the Czerka guards he was killing, and they were in bright yellow uniforms. He concentrated on covering his own six, figuring that since he couldn't see anything, trying to blindly attack would do more damage than help things.

Thankfully, the smoke was beginning to clear, allowing slightly more visibility than before. Vincent could see that all of the Czerka guards were dead, as well as the Wookie guards, and that both Freyyr and Zaalbar were hacking away unmercifully at Chuundar. The Wookie chieftain soon fell, unable to stand against the fury of both his father and brother. To Vincent, everything seemed in a haze, and before he knew it, he was being escorted back to his ship amidst the fighting that had broken out between the Wookies and the Czerka Corporation.

"You alright kid? You look a little pale..." asked Jolee quietly.

"Yeah," Vincent said swallowing with some difficulty. "Yeah, I just need a hot shower and some rest."

"You do that," the old man said as he departed to explore the **_Ebon Hawk_**. Vincent took his advice, quickly making his way to the bathroom and cleaning himself up. Feeling decidedly better, he figured he'd hold out on the nap for a little bit. Wandering around the ship, he found himself standing in front of the door to Bastila's room. **How in the Force did I get here? Maybe I do need that nap...**

Vincent entered the large room that he shared with two others and found that it was mercifully empty. Collapsing onto his bed, he closed his eyes and was almost immediately out like a light.

_The bridge of a ship became visible, and three Jedi were battling with an equal amount of Sith. Though the scene was complete turmoil, a lone figure stood at the head of the bridge seemingly oblivious to it all. The Sith's cape was drawn over his head, covered his broad shoulders, and came to an end just above the floor, leaving combat boots visible from the ankle down. It wasn't hard to tell that the man was heavily armored, and a single lightsaber was clipped onto a belt that hung low on his waist. Behind him, the fight raged on, yet he did not turn. His gaze was fixed on the massive fleet of battleships and destroyers outside of his own ship, and he watched them intently. Another Sith fell to the onslaught of a young female Jedi, and the cloaked figure half turned in annoyance. Raising a hand, he brought his fingers together ever so slightly, and the last remaining soldier that stood between him and the Jedi feebly clutched at his throat. Clenching his fist, the man heard a satisfying crunch as the soldier's neck snapped in two._

"_You cannot win, Revan!" the female Jedi stated, determination in her eyes._

Vincent had seen this vision before on Taris, when he first met Bastila after the swoop race. This time, however, it was different. He could feel Revan's dark amusement at the defiance in the Jedi that stood before him and the slight undertone of boredom that arrogantly laced his attitude.

_Revan's response was to lazily ignite his lightsaber and twirl it expertly before bringing it to rest above his right shoulder, the blade parallel to the floor and the tip pointing toward the Jedi. He studied the young woman standing before him with a detached curiosity. She was of medium height, maybe five foot six, and had a slim yet athletic build that was enhanced all the more by the taupe body suit that hugged her every curve. Her brunette hair hung loosely in her face, pulling free of the twin ponytails she wore it in, and shockingly blue-grey eyes burned with a fiery determination that unsettled Revan. She was holding her yellow lightsaber low, the tip of it barely reaching her chin. Her mouth was drawn into a tight line, and her body was tense, ready for action. He recognized her as the Padawan Bastila Shan of the Jedi Order, one of the only Jedi in some time to master the art of Battle Meditation. This woman stirred something in the Sith Lord, something that he had not felt for a long time. At that moment, he decided against killing her, opting instead to slay only her companions. A disturbance in the Force demanded his attention, and his concentration broke from her. The Sith Lord's fury blazed at none other than his turncoat young pupil. He sensed his apprentice's betrayal barely a second before two massive plasma torpedoes slammed into the bridge, exploding in flaming brilliance. The blast immediately killed the two Jedi flanking Padawan Shan and brought her to her knees. Revan had caught the brunt of it, and a pool of blood was already forming around the Dark Lord's broken and mangled body. Bastila had miraculously survived, and kneeled over Revan's all but lifeless form. Placing a hand on his armored chest, she reached to remove the visor that covered his face. Pushing back the hood of his cape, Bastila lifted the mask slowly, apprehension apparent on her face..._

Sitting up suddenly, Vincent swore. He had seen more that time than ever before, but the dream had ended just before he had discovered who the man was behind the Dark Lord's mask. What was more, Vincent realized that he had been acutely in tune with Revan's emotional state. It was as if he was almost there...or had been. Rubbing his eyes, he threw the sheets off of his body and slid out of bed. Standing, he bent over to touch his toes, stretching languidly. A booted foot planted itself on his backside and pushed hard, sending Vincent to eat if face first on the metal grating of the floor. Ignoring the stinging of his scraped flesh and the throbbing of his bloodied nose, he called his lightsaber to his hand and ignited it, casting a violet glow on the walls of the room. Turning, he faced his assailant, preparing to kick some serious ass, only to stop in utter disbelief.

"I hate you old man..." he muttered furiously.

"HAHAHA! I'm sorry...I couldn't resist..." Jolee gasped in between fits of laughter. He sent a wave of Force healing over Vincent, and clutched at his side, a painful stitch from lack of air forming.

"YOU..." Vincent stopped, too flustered to continue. Leaving a chuckling Jolee behind, he entered the main hold and sunk into a chair.

"We've landed in Tatooine!" the Jolee's voice chased after him.

"Yeah thanks," he called back, already moving again. His destination: the workbench in the garage. Needless to say, Vincent was quite surprised to find his armor completely spotless and in perfect condition.

"Did you...?" he asked Canderous, seeing as the Mandalorian was the only person who ever spent a good amount of time in the garage.

"That's a nice set of armor you got there. Almost better than Mandalorian," the mercenary replied, a small smile appearing on his face. "Almost."

"Thank you," Vincent said, still in a state of shock. Canderous never did nice things for other people...

Donning his body armor, he clipped his lightsaber on his belt, stocked up on supplies, and walked briskly into the **_Ebon Hawk_**'s cockpit.

"You, my friend, are a mind reader."

The Republic soldier smiled. "I figured after a ton of lush, green forests, you'd need a massive change of scenery."

"You were right. Are we docked?"

"Yeah, but you've gotta bet on a docking fee..."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Always." Departing from the cockpit, he reentered the main hold to find everyone waiting expectantly for him. "So," he started, "who wants to come with me into a hot, sandy, sure-to-bring-death-if-you-wander-off desert?"

"I'm coming," Bastila stated a little too quickly, earning her some curious looks from the group.

"Right...anyone else?"

"I'm in."

Nearly everyone turned to look at the owner of the voice that had spoken.

"What the hell's so damn interesting?" Canderous asked irritably. "I want to get off this fracking ship."

"Well, that's settled then. C'mon, let's get going," said Vincent, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen. Sure enough, as soon as they departed from the ship, they were greeted by a Czerka employee claiming he needed a docking fee of one hundred credits. Bastila distinctly heard Vincent mutter something that sounded like 'damn vultures' as they made to leave the Anchorhead port and enter the city. A Twi'lek woman approached them, and Vincent's hand inconspicuously strayed to his lightsaber.

"Excuse me, but aren't you Helena's daughter Bastila?"

"I am Bastila, yes. How can I help you?" Vincent could clearly see the way that Bastila had stiffened at her mother's name.

"Your mother is here, on Tatooine. In the cantina, I think. She desperately wants to speak to you before, well...you know," the Twi'lek said with a sympathetic air in her voice.

"No, I'm afraid I don't know. We're very busy, so unless this is of utmost importance..." Bastila said in irritation.

"Don't be rude Bastila. If this woman has something to say, let her say it," Vincent butted in, earning himself a glare that could have frozen over hell. The woman nodded at him appreciatively.

"Your mother is ill, I thought you knew. She's been trying to find you before she dies, but she hasn't had any luck until now. Please, at least go see her in the cantina."

The Twi'lek left without any chance for Bastila to respond, quickly disappearing around a corner. Vincent turned expectantly to the headstrong young woman on his right.

"What?" she said eyeing him. "I've told you before that my mother and I didn't get along. How would you feel if a stranger came up and started talking to you about one of your parents?"

"Do you think we should see her?"

"The news of my mother's illness is...distressing. Though I'm not entirely convinced she's sick at all. It could be another ploy to manipulate me..."

Vincent sighed. "If we have the time, will you promise to go see her?"

"If we have the time," she answered, stressing the 'if.' It was obvious that Bastila did not look forward to seeing her mother. Vincent was becoming increasingly frustrated as every attempt they made to leave the port ended in failure. This time, an alien stopped him by holding out a clipboard.

"Yes, it's all here. Docking bay 32...good luck with the shipment."

"Uh...what shipment?" Vincent asked perplexed.

"You _are_ in docking bay 32...the shipment of gizka is your problem now. No refunds. Oh, one of the loaders said that a crate might have broken."

"Gizka! How did – "

"I'm sorry sir, but if there's a mix up then you'll need to fill out this form right here...where did I put that stupid thing? It's so unorganized around here. Sorry, but like I said, the gizka are your problem now. Have a nice day." And with that, the alien walked off leaving a spluttering Vincent behind.

"What have I done to deserve this?" he asked while looking up into the bright Tatooine sky. "So now I have to deal with a bunch of damn gizka on my ship, who, if they've gotten loose, I'm quite sure have multiplied by now. DAMMIT," he said loudly enough to attract the attention of several dock workers.

"I couldn't help but overhear your predicament, and I think I might have a solution."

Vincent directed his attention the alien merchant that had set up shop only a few feet away.

"And how can you help me?"

"I have gizka poison, if you're willing to buy it. Not the most humane way to dispose of the little creatures, true, but effective nonetheless," he added upon seeing Vincent's look of uncertainty.

"I'll buy some. How much?"

"Fifteen credits."

Vincent handed the merchant the credits and pocketed the poison. He didn't plan on using it unless he had to; he wasn't about to go slaughtering the gizka unless it was a last resort.

"Does it normally take this long to get out of port?" Canderous complained.

"No, I normally don't get accosted by fifty million people like today, but you didn't have to come."

"You aren't one to dance around the issue, are you?"

"I say what I mean in the shortest, most efficient way possible. It makes life much easier if you know when to turn on the charm, and when to get down to brass tacks. Unlike yourself there, who could use a little discretion in dealing with the locals," Vincent retorted.

Canderous laughed. "I respect that in you. You know how to get a job done."

They were finally outside of the port, and the sparsely populated city of Anchorhead stretched before them. A strong gust of wind buffeted Vincent, kicking up a sizeable cloud of dust. Wiping the dirt off of his face, Vincent sighed.

"God I hate sand."


	7. Chapter 7

This is a longer chapter than the others simply because I couldn't find a good stopping point. I still don't particularly like where I've stopped anyway, but whatever.

Oh, Inuyasha: To destroy the droids on the Star Forge, do as follows.

1. Make sure you have computer spikes. If you don't then you will have to kill more droids than if you have a ton of spikes.

2. The droids will be named with letters. I.E. "Star Forge Droid A" or "Star Forge Droid G". Each little generator that produces droids has a letter, so pay attention to which generators are which.

3. Ok, if you have computer spikes, press the "B" button on your Xbox controller to get out of battle mode. Go over to one of the consoles next to a generator and use spikes to shut it down. Do this for all of the generators and you'll get past the droids.

4. If you don't have computer spikes, then you will have to destroy some of the droids before you can shut down the generators. You will need seven spikes each to shut down a generator, so in essence, you will have to destroy seven of each type of droid to get enough spikes. So, say you want to shut down generator A, kill seven droids that have an "Star Forge Droid A" as a title. Then, go over to the little bins that are sitting next to the consoles, press the "B" button to get out of combat mode, get the spikes out of the bin, then use them on the console.

If that didn't make any sense, let me know. Basically, the only way to shut down the generators is outside of combat mode. Like I said, if this made absolutely no sense to you, email me or something and I'll try to explain it better. Hope it works for you!

Okay, "Osi'kyr" is just a Mandalorian exclamation of surprise.

* * *

Canderous laughed. "Didn't you grow up on a planet full of rock?" 

"Rock, not sand. There's a big difference. Sand needs to stay on the beach, not get all up in my armor and into places that should not be touched by the elements," Vincent corrected him. At that, Bastila laughed as well, though she covered her mouth quickly and regained her composure.

"We're wasting time," she stated.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Hey, is that a Czerka office? Let's go in there. Maybe we'll find out something useful."

As soon as they got within ten feet of the Czerka building, they could hear the sounds of a heated argument going on inside. Upon entering, they found that a Duros miner was trying to convince the head representative for Czerka to find a non-violent solution to the problems the Sand People were causing. Flustered and done quarrelling, the Duros miner turned to Vincent.

"Don't bother with them, they don't see the importance of life," he stated before leaving in a huff.

"Oh, hello," the Czerka representative said in a slightly more friendly voice than she had been using with the poor Duros. "If you're here about the Tusken Raiders, please send all complaints to our corporate Kiosk in Coruscant. And don't ask about hunting licenses, we're no longer selling them."

"Okay, that's great. How do I get one?" Vincent asked, already irritated by the lady's presumptuous attitude.

"As I already stated, we're no longer selling them."

"Really? I had no idea..." Vincent said sarcastically.

The woman glared at him, but gave him an appraising look over nonetheless. "You look quite capable," she stated matter-of-factly.

"I can handle anything that comes my way honey. Of that you can be sure."

"Oh?" the woman stated with amusement. "Well then, if you'll agree to perform a small task for me, then I might have a hunting license for you somewhere..."

"And what would that be?" Vincent asked, unsure if he really needed that hunting license or not.

"Before you say no, unless you have a license, you can't get out of the city. So I strongly suggest you consider my offer. All I'm asking is for you to remove the threat of the Sand People. They regularly attack our Sand Crawlers, and maintaining those machines costs a hefty sum of credits. I don't care how you get it done; I just want those Raiders gone. I'll give you credits for each gaffi stick you bring in, but as proof of completing our deal, I'll need the all important chieftain's gaffi stick. Bring that in, and I'll pay you handsomely," she explained.

Vincent thought for a moment. She hadn't specified how she wanted the Sand People gone, so he might not have to kill them. The Sand People weren't known for their diplomacy, however, so Vincent wasn't sure how to go about solving this problem. He needed that hunting license though.

"I'll do it."

"Good. Here's your license, and bring in any gaffi sticks you collect for credits. Remember, I want that chieftain's gaffi."

"Fine. I'll be back when I have it." And with that Vincent left, not wishing to talk to her nay more than he had to. Once outside, the Duros miner confronted him.

"Let me guess, you're her killer for hire? Don't you realize that the Sand People were here first? Killing them won't solve anything!"

Vincent struggled to keep himself from snapping at the alien. "I never agreed to kill anyone, and I won't unless I absolutely have to. Trust me, getting into a brawl with a bunch of Tusken Raiders is not on the top of my to-do list."

The Duros looked at him with a new found deference in his eyes. "I see. Maybe you are not as heartless as the rest of your race seems to be. I only ask that you attempt at a peaceful solution. I know it's possible, though communicating with the Sand People is difficult. You'd need a very high-tech protocol droid to translate. I think Yuka Laka, the owner of the droid shop, just came into possession of one of these droids," the alien said before walking away.

"I might have to check that out," Vincent said to himself. "Okay, let's keep going. I'm sure that we'll find out pretty much all there is to know in a few minutes anyway."

The group was able to make it about one hundred feet before once again being stopped, this time by a desperate looking woman.

"Excuse me, sir," she said humbly. Something in Vincent's heart went out to the woman standing before him and he stopped.

"Yes?"

"Are...are you a hunter?"

"I have a license, yes."

"You do? Could you please help me? I don't have anything left..." she trailed and dropped her eyes, unable to meet his gaze.

"What do you need?" he asked kindly.

"My husband was a hunter. He was killed out on the Dune Sea, and my children and I are stuck here on this miserable planet. I don't have enough money to buy passage for a freighter out of here, and I don't have a license myself, so I can't go in the hunting lodge to sell this wraid plate. I know it's worth at least 500 credits. I was hoping maybe you could buy it from me?"

Vincent was about to agree, but a better plan struck him. "I can't buy it from you, but if you'd give it to me, I'll sell it for you."

The woman looked at him warily. "I...I don't know. How do I know I can trust you?"

"I can't prove it to you. You'll just have to take that chance. Please, let me help you," he pleaded.

The woman stared at him for a long time; clearly contemplating whether risking her future on Vincent was worth it. He simply stood there staring right back at her. Finally, she seemed to have come to a decision.

"Can I have some sort of insurance?"

"Here," Vincent said handing her his lightsaber. "You can hold this until I get back."

Her eyes widened. "You're a...Jedi!" she exclaimed. "Please, take it back!" She looked almost frightened at the possibility of touching his lightsaber.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded quickly. "Here is the plate my husband left. Good luck."

Vincent walked into Fazza's Hunting Lodge, purposefully striding toward the alien who was obviously in charge.

"Ah, a new hunter! What can I do for you my friend?" Fazza asked good-naturedly.

"I have a wraid plate here that I recently acquired out on the Dune Sea. How much can I get for it?"

Fazza peered in astonishment at the plate Vincent had handed to him. "This is the biggest wraid plate I've ever seen! I'd say...at least...500 credits should do."

"That's fine. Thank you," Vincent said upon receiving the credits. Pulling out a wad of credits from his pack, he counted out another 250 credits and added it to the 500 that Fazza had just paid him.

"What are you doing?" Bastila asked.

"You'll see," he answered walking out the door. The woman was waiting, and she looked at him with a mixture of fear and hope in her eyes.

"Did you sell it?"

"I did," Vincent said nodding. "He paid 250 more credits than you thought."

"250 more credits? That's...that's 750 credits! Oh, thank you so much! You have no idea what you've done for me...I wish there was some way to repay you for this."

"Please, just take your family and get off of this planet."

"I will! Thank you so much!" she said, flinging her arms around his neck and hugging him for all she was worth. Stunned, all Vincent could do was awkwardly pat her head and say, "You're welcome."

The woman ran off, rounded a corner and disappeared from sight, leaving a still bewildered Vincent standing rooted to the spot at which she had hugged him.

"That was very noble of you to help that woman like that," Bastila said placing a hand on his arm.

"Hmph," Canderous snorted. "She's too weak to survive."

Vincent glared at the older man. "What if all she needed was a little help? Maybe she would have died out here, maybe not. At least I gave her a chance."

"You gave her another chance to suffer! Another day to live out her miserable life and wish she had something better!" the Mandalorian shot back.

Vincent opened his mouth to reply but Bastila gently squeezed his arm. Closing it, he thought for a moment. Lifting his gaze back to the mercenary, he spoke in a hard voice that left no room for dispute.

"Then I'll take that chance, Canderous. Far be it from me to turn away someone in need of my help."

Canderous muttered something underneath his breath, but didn't immediately reply. When he did, it had absolutely nothing to do with rendering aid to those in need.

"Where the hell's the cantina in this place? I could use a drink."

"Is that it?" Bastila asked pointing at a door that had carbon scoring from multiple blaster shots to its metal frame.

"Let's find out," Vincent said, approaching a Duros who was walking out of the door. Before he could inquire if they were, without a doubt, standing in front of the cantina, the alien addressed them in a tone full of exasperation.

"I swear that woman gives humans a bad name! Tell me you all aren't like that! Helena must be your word for pit-rancor!"

"Um, Bastila, isn't your mother's name Helena?" Vincent asked quietly. Bastila looked put out.

"Yes, and I doubt she wants to be kept waiting. We should go see her."

"Okay," he said, slightly surprised that she actually _wanted_ to see her mother after all this time. "Excuse me, I believe you said there's a woman named Helena in there?"

"Oh yes, she's in there all right. Probably won't be coming out soon, either. Nobody can knock that ice princess off her high horse, oh no. Wait, are you actually looking for her? You humans must be insane..." the Duros muttered while walking away.

"Ice princess, hmm?" Vincent looked at Bastila. "Like mother, like daughter."

"Don't you dare compare me to my mother!" she shouted.

Vincent visibly cringed and placed his hands in front of himself defensively. "Are we going in or not?"

Bastila sighed. "Yes. Let's get this over with."

As soon as the two Jedi and the Mandalorian walked into the cantina, an eerie hush fell over the occupants. Vincent felt his temper rising.

"What the hell are you staring at?" he asked loudly. Almost immediately, the music began to play again, the conversations picked up where they had left off, and the noise level in the cantina soon reached its usual dull roar. Scanning to room, Vincent picked out Bastila's mother fairly easily from the crowd of lowlifes and scum.

"There, in the corner," he said without pointing.

"I see her," Bastila said, her voice lacking enthusiasm. Vincent parted the small crowd easily, as he was quite a formidable figure.

"Ma'am?" he asked politely when he reached Helena.

"Excuse me, but do I know you?" she asked with reservation.

"It's me mother. Or don't you recognize me?" Bastila answered for him, stepping up beside Vincent.

"Well what do expect when I haven't had so much as a picture of you since you've been gone? My, you've grown up."

"Spare me. What is it that you need? Credits?"

"Can't a woman have her dying wish to see her daughter fulfilled?"

"Where is father?" Bastila suddenly interjected.

"What do you mean?" At Bastila's blank look, Helena's face fell. "So you don't know."

"Know what? What did you do to him?" Bastila asked accusingly. Helena turned to Vincent.

"Isn't she sweet? Is this how you treat your mother young man?" she asked with a tint of sarcasm.

"My mother is long dead, if you must know," Vincent replied candidly. Helena's eyes widened.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry. I fear I'll be joining her soon enough..." Helena sighed heavily and turned back to her daughter. "Your father is dead Bastila. He died out on the Dune Sea."

"How do you know? He could still be out there!" Bastila said, distress reflected in her eyes.

"Dear, a hunter who was there said he saw your father die! I can't ask for more proof than that."

"How did he die?" Bastila's voice was now flat and emotionless.

"He was hunting for Krayt dragon pearls. He was with a group of hunters, and only one of them managed to escape. He said that he saw your father killed by the dragon, and that he can only assume that his body is still out there." Helena looked pleadingly at her daughter. "I want you to find your father's holocron, Bastila, and bring it back to me."

"Why should I?" Bastila asked coldly.

"Is it too much to ask for a wife to see her husband one last time? Just find the holocron." And with that, Helena turned away from them and sat down at an empty table, clearly done talking to them. Vincent turned to Bastila.

"Do you think we should look for the holocron?"

Bastila hesitated. "Having father's holocron would be like having him here with you. He recorded all of his personal thoughts on it..."

"So we're going to look for it?"

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

"Alright then, let's go," Vincent said, once again parting the crowd to get through to the door. He squinted as his eyes were flooded with light from the twin suns of Tatooine, a far cry from the dim illumination of the cantina. Bastila was walking ahead of him and Canderous was presumably following behind, though Vincent wouldn't have been disappointed in the least if the Mandalorian had stayed in the cantina. Vincent was following closely behind his female companion; although he was quite sure she could take care of herself if a thug decided to attack, he didn't really want to take any chances. He had zoned out for a moment, lost in his own thoughts, and didn't notice Bastila disappearing around a corner. In the split second that it took him to realize that she was gone, Bastila was back around the corner pinning him against the wall with a surprising amount of force.

"Maybe we should go somewhere private? I mean, as much as I don't mind the thought of you taking me right here, we might scare the locals," he teased.

"Will you shut up!" she hissed quietly. "There are three Dark Jedi waiting for us around that wall, and I nearly just ran into them!"

Vincent sobered immediately. "Three of them? And you're sure they didn't see you?"

"If they did, I doubt we would be having this conversation."

"True." Vincent scanned his surroundings and frowned. "For the love of all that is holy, where is Canderous?"

Bastila looked around as well, her face stating that she had no idea. "I thought he was behind us."

"Yeah, me too. I'd rather not go up against Dark Jedi outnumbered."

She nodded resignedly, remembering their last encounter with Malak's followers. Needless to say, she didn't want that to happen again.

"Um..." she heard Vincent say nervously.

"What?"

He looked down, indicating the fact that she was still pinning him against the wall. His eyes met hers and she could see the glint of amusement in his emerald orbs. Mustering a good deal of self-control, she stepped away from him. She couldn't help a brief flashback of Vincent holding her gently back on Kashyyyk and the rush of feelings that it brought to the surface. Forcing her emotions back down, she chanced a look at the object of her forbidden affections. He was looking at her oddly, his arms folded over his chest and his right shoulder resting against the wall.

"Something's bothering you."

"I'm just thinking about my mother."

"Now you're lying." He pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer to her. "You can't keep things from like this Bastila. I know what goes on up here," he said, tapping a finger on her temple. His hand moved to her cheek, and he tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "Please tell me what's wrong."

Bastila hesitated for a moment, apprehensive as to whether or not she could share her feelings with him. Before she could respond, however, Canderous came jogging up next to them.

"Osi'kyr! I look away for two seconds and you're gone."

"That's your fault, not ours" Vincent said withdrawing his hand from her face.

"I told you I wanted a drink. I get up to the bar, order one, look around, and you're nowhere in sight. I wasted five credits on that drink!" the Mandalorian said sullenly.

"I'll pay you back later. Right now, we've got a bigger problem. Three Dark Jedi, other side of that wall," Vincent explained.

"Dark Jedi? Why are they here?"

"They're looking for her," he said motioning towards Bastila. "And possibly me as well. Either way, we need to take them out."

Canderous pulled out his Mandalorian repeating blaster rifle, fingering the trigger with a malicious look on his face. "This should be fun."

Vincent couldn't help a smile at the Mandalorian's eagerness for battle. "I agree. Let's go."

Rounding the corner, their gaze never left Malak's followers as they came closer to their enemies.

"Lord Malak – " the Sith began, but was cut off by Vincent's amused snort. "I fail to see what is so humorous!" he said angrily.

Though his mouth was smiling, Vincent's eyes were cold and hard, filled with hatred for the men in front of him. "Do you all rehearse the same speech? Wait, let me finish for you, and I quote 'Lord Malak was most displeased when he learned that you had escaped Taris alive. He has promised a great reward for whoever disposes of you.' Or something close to that."

The Dark Jedi spluttered, at a complete loss for words. Vincent turned to his Mandalorian friend. "Would you like the first shot?"

Canderous grinned and raised his gun, letting loose with a barrage of fire. Vincent's lightsaber ignited with a snap hiss and he charged the nearest Dark Jedi, slicing at the Sith's left shoulder. His enemy brought his crimson blade up in time to block, and Vincent smiled. The Dark Jedi was falling directly into his trap. Planting his foot, Vincent spun to the left, ramming his lightsaber into the Sith's unprotected right side. Catching the weapon that his enemy had dropped with the toe of his boot, Vincent kicked it up to his free left hand and ignited it, mildly surprised to see that it was the same violet color as his own blade. Returning his attention to the battle, he could see that Bastila had her hands full with a Dark Jedi who was also wielding a double-bladed lightsaber and that Canderous was fairing quite well considering he was fighting a lightsaber with a blaster rifle.

"Canderous!" Vincent yelled catching the mercenary's attention. He tossed the Dark Jedi's weapon to Canderous who nodded in appreciation. The Mandalorian dropped his blaster rifle and began to hack mercilessly at the Sith, forcing him against the wall of a nearby building. Trapped, the Dark Jedi had little chance of winning, and his lifeless corpse soon hit the earth with a large gash across his torso.

Bastila had finally discovered a weakness in her opponent's defense and took full advantage with a flurry of quick strikes, sending the Dark Jedi careening backwards out of control. He tried to bring his lightsaber up to shield himself from her attacks, but Bastila severed it in half with a flick of her wrist and impaled the surprised Sith on one of her glowing yellow blades, killing him before he slumped to the ground.

Vincent vaguely realized that they were being watched by the surprised citizens of Anchorhead, all staring with mouths agape at the scene that had just played out. He pressed the button on the hilt of his lightsaber that turned his violet blade off and clipped it back onto his belt. Canderous tossed the Sith's lightsaber back, and Vincent placed it in his pack along with an assassin pistol and a lightsaber crystal that he found on the bodies. Bastila had retrieved the double-bladed lightsaber that her adversary had wielded, and she handed it to Vincent as well.

"What should we do with the bodies?" asked Bastila.

"Leave 'em, we can't do anything else with them," Canderous stated.

Vincent nodded in agreement. "He's right. We've got nowhere to put them, and we can't use them for anything. Besides, it's pointless wasting time discussing what to do with the bodies of three people who deserved to die when we need to be finding a droid."

The group moved forward, Vincent in front, Bastila slightly behind, and as usual, Canderous lagged furthest back.

"Why do you dislike your mother so much?" Vincent asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between himself and his female companion. She looked taken aback by the question, and it took her a few moments to respond.

"I suppose it's because I always felt that she was trying to push my father. She enjoyed living in luxury, and when that luxury would run out, she would send him on treasure hunts. Treasure hunts that I was never allowed to go on," she answered.

"I get the feeling that you and your father were very close."

She smiled sadly. "Yes. We did everything together. I loved my father more than anything in the world, and now that he's dead...that leaves a hurt inside that you just can't imagine."

Vincent turned his head back and caught Canderous' eye, motioning for him to continue on to the droid shop ahead. The Mandalorian nodded and continued to walk, ignoring the fact that Vincent and Bastila had stopped. Bastila looked at Vincent curiously but he simply shifted nervously, averting his eyes.

"What?" she asked slightly annoyed.

"Look, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, okay? I just..." he rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, a gesture that Bastila found ridiculously adorable. "I don't think that it's a good idea for you to be out here," he stated firmly.

"And why is that?"

"I don't want you to be distracted by your father's death. It...you could get hurt."

So he was being overprotective again. She couldn't get mad; he was simply looking out for her.

"Vincent, I can take care of myself. I don't need you to worry about me all of the time," Bastila said reassuringly.

"I know, but I do worry about you all of the time. I can't help it," he said shrugging. "It's your fault. If I didn't like you so much, maybe I wouldn't care..." Vincent realized what he had said and he felt a blush forming on his face. "Um...we should probably catch up with Canderous now."

"I think that's a good idea," Bastila agreed hastily. They both walked in the direction of Yuka Laka's shop, stopping in front of the door. Vincent opened it and motioned for Bastila to go through, following behind her. As soon as he entered the droid shop, he was inexplicably drawn to a copper colored droid in the corner. The robot looked similar to a protocol droid, but had the air of a combat model that had seen extensive battle and was quite comfortable with killing. Vincent walked over to it, and the droid lit up immediately, both literally and in an almost human-like fashion of happiness.

"**Statement: **Greetings prospective purchaser! I am HK-47 at your service, should you decide to remove me from the possession of one Yuka Laka."

"What's the HK stand for?"

"**Statement:** I am not sure. With the restraining bolt in place, I am not capable of fully accessing my memory banks. Suffice to say that from my superior craftsmanship, I believe I was manufactured by a prestigious company."

Vincent was intrigued by this droid. "What are your functions?"

"**Statement:** Once again, with the restraining bolt put in by that meatbag Yuka Laka, I cannot know the full extent of my functionality. However, I do know that what has been tested is in pristine working order. If you were to purchase me, and if that meatbag were to remove the restraining bolt, then my memory would be restored."

"Right. That'll be all for now." Vincent contemplated the meaning of "meatbag", but he didn't ask why HK referred to Yuka Laka as such.

"**Pleading query: **Will you please see about purchasing me from that imbecile?"

"Are you supposed to talk about your master like that?" Vincent asked, more out of amusement than fear of a faulty droid.

"**Hasty clarification:** I simply meant that Yuka Laka's repair skills are not the best, and that I feel I would be of much more use to you."

"Well, I'll look into it."

Vincent found Yuka Laka huddling in a corner by some spare parts. "Oh! Are you a customer? Have you seen the HK unit? He's in fine condition, and all the functions that I've tested have worked perfectly! He also claims to be able to speak the Sand People's dialect, though I can't be sure of that. Do you want to buy him?"

"I'm considering it," Vincent said slowly. "How much?"

"4000 credits, not a cent less!"

Vincent faked shock. "4000! Damn...don't you think that's a little high?"

Yuka Laka shifted nervously. "Well, I might have started a little too high...how about 2500? But that's as low as I'll go."

"You sure?" Yuka Laka nodded. "Fine. I'll take him."

"You will?" the alien asked incredulously. "I mean...of course you will. Here, allow me to remove the restraining bolt I installed..." Yuka Laka retrieved a hydro spanner and popped the bolt off, "There you go! All yours."

"Thanks."

"Thank you! I thought I would never sell this droid."

Vincent walked back over to HK smiling. "Well, you're mine now."

"**Statement: **That is a relief. Am I to join you now, or will you have me wait here?"

"Let that damn thing go with you two, I've had enough of this place," Canderous spoke up. "I'll be back at the ship." And with that, the Mandalorian exited, leaving Vincent with one obvious choice.

"Uh, I guess you're coming with me."

"**Pleased statement:** Very well master. My gears are practically quivering in anticipation. I would very much like to engage in some unadulterated violence..." Vincent looked at the droid with a raised eyebrow. "At your command, of course," HK finished quickly.

"So, has your memory been restored?" he asked.

"**Statement: **Much to my dismay master, it has not. I know little else than the fact that I am a droid proficient in languages, most interestingly the dialect of the Sand People, and that I am a combat-ready model."

"So you lied to me?"

"**Clarification: **Er, not so much. I spoke out of ignorance, not deceit. I was hoping that by removing the restraining bolt my memory would be restored, but I fear that isn't the case."

Vincent thought for a moment. "Have you been damaged?"

"**Statement: **I believe I have been damaged several times in the past, but I was always repaired. It is possible that some of my memory is in a lockdown due to this, or it may have been erased altogether. I cannot say. But that does not mean I am not a fully loyal droid...right master?"

"I'm not going to scrap you HK, don't worry."

"**Relieved statement:** Thank you master. I would sincerely like to avoid ending up in a junk pile."

"Do you know who your previous master was?"

"**Statement:** No master, I am afraid I do not. It seems that I am unable to access that, though the block on my programming seems to be purposeful."

"Interesting..." Vincent murmured. "You can speak the Sand People's language, right?"

"**Proud statement:** Fluently master. I do not know why I have been programmed with such a barbaric tongue and I can only assume my former master had some dealings with the Tusken Raiders."

"Good. It just so happens that I have some business with them, so you'll come in handy."

"**Statement: **As you wish, master."

"I can't say that I particularly like that droid Vincent," Bastila declared once they were outside of Yuka Laka's shop.

"Why not? I think he's great."

"He seems to enjoy violence..."

"Yeah, but if he's a combat model then maybe that's good thing. I don't know, just give him a chance. Or, at least more of a chance than you gave me," Vincent said under his breath.

"I resent that. I already apologized for judging you too quickly, and yet you still bring it up. What more do you want?" she asked in frustration.

"Nothing, I just took it kind of personally, that's all."

"By the Force, I'm sorry okay? You're being overly sensitive."

"I am not! You're the one who was insulting my ability to rescue you after I busted my ass to find you!"

"**Statement: **Is there a problem master?"

"I..." Vincent was surprised that HK had been actively listening in on their conversation. "Uh, no. No problems."

"**Disappointed query: **Are you sure? I can remove of her if she is bothering you..."

Vincent eyes got very wide at HK's offer. "What the hell? That's something I NEVER want you to do. Clear?" he threatened, his hand straying dangerously close to his lightsaber.

"**Hasty retraction: **Of course master! I will store your command in my memory banks. Shall I put her under the list of sentients I am to protect at all costs?"

"Yes, please do. In fact, put everyone on the ship under that list."

"**Statement: **As you wish. Processing...done."

"See what I mean?" Bastila asked with an 'I told you so' look.

"If he decided to 'remove' you then he'd wish that I was going to scrap him," Vincent said, mildly irritated.

Bastila smiled to herself. As much as much as his over-protectiveness could be annoying, it made her feel...wanted. Like she meant something to him, she wasn't just along for the ride. She could feel his eyes on her and it unnerved her slightly.

"Something wrong?" she asked without looking at him.

"Hmm?" He hadn't expected her to say anything. "No, just thinking."

"You can think without staring at me."

"As much as I'm sure you're right, I rather enjoy staring at you." She furrowed her eyebrows at him and he smiled. "What?"

"Men," was all that Bastila said in reply.

"What the...I apologize for the fact that _your_ genes saw fit to bestow perfection upon you. Besides, I'd rather look at _you_ than HK or the vast amount of sand that's on this God forsaken planet."

"I'm not perfect," she said, feeling warmth creeping into her cheeks.

"Ah, you're blushing! You liked that."

"Wouldn't you enjoy me telling you that you were perfect?" Bastila shot back.

"I would probably check your temperature to make sure you weren't violently ill first. You aren't big on compliments. Then maybe I'd think I had died and gone to heaven or something. Try sometime and see what I do," Vincent answered.

Though Bastila knew what he had said was true, she found that coming from him, it still stung. Vincent noticed that she looked almost sad, and he immediately regretted his words.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that..."

"No, you're right. I may have been too hard on you in the past."

The words were out before he could stop them. "May have been?"

He saw her wince and he mentally kicked himself. "I see," she replied. "Is there nothing I can do to make it up to you? I would rather we were friends."

"Oh? And how close of a friend would you like to be?"

"Vincent I...you know I can't feel that way about you. About any man. It isn't permitted. We're Jedi...but I would still like to consider you a friend. We...we could never be anything more though. That isn't allowed," Bastila said quietly, her words unconvincing.

Vincent sighed in disappointment. "I'd like that I suppose."

Bastila looked up at him with gratitude. "I know my manner can be a bit taciturn at times. I know you must be getting sick of my lectures of the Dark side and...everything else." She smiled bitterly. "I spent all my life being hounded by the Jedi Masters. Being told how gifted and important I was until I was sick of it. I remember when I was younger, I used to swear that I would never become as self-absorbed and stodgy as the Masters. It's ironic, really."

"You're not self-absorbed or stodgy," Vincent said honestly. She was a little uptight maybe...

She smiled for real this time. "That's kind of you to say, but I know for myself it's not true. Being controlled has kept everyone around me at an arm's length; even those like yourself who are most in need of my understanding and compassion. Maybe it's time to change that. You deserve to know how much I respect and admire you." She paused, then added. "I had to tell you how much I care for you. As a friend, of course."

**Of course. Sure, we'll run around a bazillion planets, save the galaxy, and oh, let's not forget, we're the bestest buddies! Damn Jedi code...**

"I care for you too, Bastila," he said, purposefully neglecting to add 'as a friend.' Vincent noticed that she ignored this. They had reached the exit to the Dune Sea, and he pulled out his license.

Absently, he showed it to the man that guarded the gate to. Surprisingly, there was a woman waiting on the other side of the gate with a very smug look on her face.

"You're a hunter aren't you? You'd have to be to get out here. Anyway, tell my husband Tanis Marlena says hello when you see him."

"Um, okay. What if he has something to say to you?" Vincent responded in confusion.

"Oh I'll be long gone before then. I bought my own license just to see him get my little gift."

"What kind of gift?"

"A gift that symbolizes our years together. Something that will blow up in his face," Marlena said with a maniacal glint in her eyes.

Vincent blanched. "It sounds like you're planning to kill him!"

"Oh, I'm done planning. I've rigged up a little trap that he'll run right into. If he's smart, he'll get out. But he's not smart," Marlena explained, entering back into the settlement of Anchorhead.

"Wow," Vincent said rubbing the back of his neck again and looking at Bastila. "She's crazy."


	8. Chapter 8

Well, my chapters just seem to be getting longer and longer. Oh well, I enjoy writing them, and you all seem to like them, so I'm not going to complain. Anyway, sorry for the wait, we're about to host a baby shower for my aunt, and I'm cleaning the house...eek. Thanks for all of the reviews, I'm glad you like my rendition of HK.

Slightly fluffy moment later on in the chapter btw Revan (Vincent)/Bastila. I found it odd that they didn't put something like it in the game, and that she just was like "Oh we found my dead father's holocron, let's go back to mother now" with no emotion whatsoever. So I fixed that.

Oooh yes. Kind of a lot of physical descriptions in this chapter, I know i've had a couple of Vincent already, but hey, the man IS hot in Bastila's eyes, and wouldn't YOU take the chance to ogle your hottie any chance you got? And I realized that I hadn't given a description of Bastila from Vincent's POV, so I let him get an eyeful of her as well.

Hope you like, and as always, read and review!

**Note: Vincent's appearance has been changed somewhat from the original idea that I had...I just got rid of some hair. We'll pretend his chest and stomach were always silky smooth, kay? It just wasn't going to work out with something that happens in a later chapter. And I realized that I really don't like chest hair...at all...**

**_Second Note_: This chapter has been revised. Again. I decided that I didn't like how Revan/Vincent suddenly became a cold, heartless ass, and how Bastila was a little passive later on. Please bear with me on stuff like this. I try and keep the revisions to a minimum, but this is like a first draft being submitted to an editor. I take your feedback and work with it, and I finally decided I don't like what I did with this particular part. Thanks for your patience.**

* * *

"What is _that_?" Bastila asked, pointing at a huge structure that loomed ominously over the desert. 

"Must be a Sand Crawler. That Czerka rep said that the Tusken Raiders had been attacking them, and that thing looks pretty disabled judging from the smoke pouring off of it," Vincent answered.

"**Amused statement:** I believe I see a man, master. He is surrounded by four robots that seem to be malfunctioning. Possible explanation: He is the man that woman referred to as Tanis. We should tell him what his wife said."

Vincent couldn't suppress a snigger. "Yeah. Imagine the look on his face when he realizes his wife's a complete psycho and she's trying to kill him. Let's go see if it's him."

Walking briskly in the direction of the floating robots, Vincent wondered what Tanis had to have done to make his wife go off the deep end.

"Hey, a little help here? I seem to be...ah...DOOMED!" Tanis yelled when he saw the trio approaching.

"Let me guess. You're Tanis, right?" Vincent asked upon stopping within a few feet of a faulty robot.

"Yeah, that's me."

"Your wife says hello."

"Gah, I knew this was her doing! Listen, could you help me out, please? I've been standing here for hours. See, if I move from this spot, the robots'll self destruct. They don't care if you move, just me. Do me a favor? Disable them..." Tanis pleaded.

"Why did your wife do this? I mean, what did you do to piss her off so much that she'd be willing to let you die out here?" Vincent inquired.

"Ah...something about not following her archaic rules for proper conduct in marriage. I swear I never saw this coming. She probably figures I'm to dumb to get out of this...eh, she's right..."

"I say we leave him," Bastila stated.

"You're awfully cold for such a pretty lady, you know that?"

"You have no idea," Vincent muttered loud enough for Tanis to hear.

"**Supplication:** Can I shoot him master? Please?"

"Not yet HK," Vincent said. "Tanis, what _exactly_ did you do to deserve this? Be honest. I can tell if you're lying."

"I got drunk one night and got a little to friendly with another woman for my wife's tastes."

"Friendly?"

"I woke up the next day with her in my bed and a horrible hangover."

"Right. Well, here's some water," Vincent tossed a water canteen to Tanis, "and good luck with disabling those droids."

"What? No, don't leave! Please, I swear I'll make it up to her if you get me out!"

"You're wife's already long gone, Tanis," Vincent replied.

"If I'm going to die then I'm taking you out with me!" the hunter screamed insanely.

"What?" Vincent exclaimed. "What do you- holy -!"

He barely managed to throw himself out of the way as the man purposefully moved and caused all of his hunting droids to explode at once. Vincent raised his head from the sand and looked at the charred and bloody corpse that seconds ago was a living, breathing human being. From ten feet away on the ground, Bastila watched his horror-stricken face take in everything. Opening her mouth to say something to him about his idiocy that cost another man his life, she paused and thought better of it. She would let him deal with his own guilt for now; besides, he was never very amiable when she pointed out his mistakes, especially right after they occured. She knew he hadn't meant to get Tanis killed, but she was still disappointed in the way in which he handled the situation, not to mention shocked herself at Tanis' sudden suicidal rage.

Picking themselves up, they dusted off and walked mutely along until they made it to the Sand Crawler and found that there were three surviving crew members that looked like they had been through hell.

"Oi, for the love of God, please tell me you have enough of a heart to stop and help us!" one of the men called out in a thick Scottish accent.

"What happened here?" Vincent asked, his voice shakey from Tanis' suicide.

"Raiders attacked our Sand Crawler. They equip this monster with auto-targeting turrets, but even that doesn't help. And we're just miners, not soldiers! We've held off a couple waves of those damn barbarians, but we can't last much longer. Oh for God's sake, here they come again!" the man said.

Turning to his right, Vincent saw a group of six Tusken Raiders charging at the Sand Crawler. He heard Bastila's lightsaber ignite with a snap hiss, and he quickly ignited his own violet blade. Quickly judging the distance between himself and the nearest Raider, Vincent executed a flawless Force Jump to easily dispatch his enemy, slicing the unsuspecting warrior into halves. Concentrating on another Raider, Vincent was nearly knocked out as a gaffi stick impacted with the base of his skull. Dazed, he was very grateful when a yellow lightsaber cut down the Raider that had nearly cold cocked him, and some well placed blaster fire from HK killed the other. The miners had miraculously managed to take down two of the Tusken Raiders, leaving one severely wounded one to the mercy of HK. The combat droid viciously struck the Raider over the head with the butt of his Mandalorian rifle and ended the warrior's life with a point-blank shot in between the eyes.

The world was still spinning in Vincent's eyes, and he struggled to remain on his feet, but to no avail. Stumbling, he hit the sand with a soft thud and rolled onto his back.

"Vincent?" Bastila called, kneeling over him and blocking out the sun's harsh rays.

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong?"

"Everything's...spinning...and there's...two of you. What did I do to deserve that?"

Frowing at his distasteful attempt at humor, she examined the bleeding gash on his head. "I think that Raider gave you a concussion, or something very near to it."

"That's great...can you fix it please?"

"Oh for the love of – heal yourself!" she snapped.

"You think I enjoy this? I would've healed myself already if I could have!" he replied angrily, sitting up quickly and getting in her face, only to collapse back on the sand from a fresh wave of dizziness.

"Fine. There," she finished, sending a pulse of Force healing over him. She was in the wrong, but if she didn't have to admit it in front of him, she wouldn't.

"Thank you," he stated gruffly. "You guys need to get out of here. I guarantee they'll be back with more warriors."

"Thank you kind sir," the Scot said gratefully, his accent making the words sound almost alien. "C'mon boys, let's move out."

Vincent watched the miners disappear into the distance after a short while and he sighed. "I don't know about you, but I am _not_ marching into a camp full of Sand People. There's gotta be some way around..." he paused, looking thoughtfully at the native's corpses. "Grab their clothes. If we put them on, maybe we can sneak in." Bastila gave him a blank stare that he knew indicated she didn't like his plan. "Hey, it's worth a try. Put 'em on."

"I refuse to change in front of you," she said resolutely.

"What – fine. I'll change first, okay?"

Vincent grumbled something unintelligible while unfastening the various straps that held his armor in place. He began to pull the top half over his head, but stopped. After a few seconds, a muffled "DAMMIT!" reached Bastila's ears.

"Hey, I could use some help!" he called to her.

"Really?" she asked lazily. She was using this as a wonderful opportunity to stare at his magnificently flat and muscular stomach.

"Yes actually. This," he wiggled the armor, "isn't supposed to happen."

"That's terrible."

"And I agree wholeheartedly sweetheart, but could you PLEASE get it off me?"

Rolling her eyes, Bastila moved to grab the armor. She yanked forcefully and the offending garment came loose, revealing a very annoyed Vincent.

"Don't call me sweetheart," she ordered with a glare. He grinned, and she rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time."What happened?"

"It's hot, so I'm sweaty, and that didn't go over too well with the rubber part there," he said pointing to a small patch of black that allowed for greater range of movement. "My arm got stuck."

Suddenly, the realization that he was shirtless smacked Bastila in the face and she panicked slightly, though she hid it fairly well. "Are you wearing an undergarment?"

He looked at her very oddly. "No. I just put the armor on totally naked." Vincent shook his head. "I'm wearing long underwear, sheesh."

"Well how was I supposed to know?" she asked. "Most undergarments for men are those body suits."

"I hate those things! I stick to the bottom half of the body suit only."

As if to demonstrate, he removed the rest of his armor, revealing that he did indeed only wear the long underwear. Bastila immediately noticed they were skin tight too. Vincent had momentarily closed his eyes at the relief of being out of his armor, and Bastila used this to study him unabashedly for a good thirty seconds.

In the unforgiving light that the twin suns of Tatooine cast, Bastila found that she had misjudged his body before when they were on Kashyyyk. The dim lighting inside of Jolee's hut had hidden the fact that he had a marvelous tan - or maybe it was the bright Tatooine sunlight, she couldn't tell. His broad shoulders suited him perfectly, giving him the air of someone sure of himself. Every muscle on his arms was flawless; each was defined and clearly visible, not massive, but wholly proportionate to the rest of his body. Vincent's strong chest tapered down into a firm stomach and lean hips, supported by solid legs that looked more powerful than Bastila had expected.

"See something you like?" Vincent's voice said, not without a hint of amusement.

"I'm afraid of what might happen if I say yes," Bastila answered, sarcasm tinting her words.

He pouted, then noticed that her eyes were nowhere near his face. His pout turning to a grin, Vincent decided to have some fun with her.

"I would appreciate it if you would stop staring at my groin."

Bastila's face turned an indescribable shade of crimson as her eyes flew up to meet his, anger boiling beneath the icy-blue irises. "I was not staring at that!"

"I don't mind," he replied while retrieving a set of robes off the nearest Tusken Raider. "Just let me know if you ever want to do a closer inspection."

"Oh please. If it helps you sleep at night, then keep telling yourself that I want you," Bastila shot back. His broad, strong back was attractive as well...but not without scars, she noticed with some reservation.

"I'm yours to take advantage of baby."

"Will you just shut up and get dressed?" she asked in exasperation. The man was impossible sometimes!

"There," Vincent said in a muffled but amused voice, thanks to the mask that the Sand People wore. "Your turn."

"Turn around," Bastila ordered.

"What? You got to stare at me!"

"You never said I couldn't. Now turn around."

Grumbling something under his breath, Vincent turned his back to Bastila and sat down. She changed quickly; not that she didn't trust him, she just didn't like the fact that she was stripping down in the middle of a desert where anyone could see.

"Help me get this mask on."

He stood and turned, surprised that she had changed so fast. "I thought it took women a long time to change," Vincent mused while helping her don the mask.

"That's makeup. It takes us a long time to pick out the outfit, about two minutes to get into it, and the rest of the time is spent fussing over an eyebrow that won't cooperate," she replied with a smile that made him wish she smiled more often.

Vincent made an "ah" sound and stepped back from her to study his work. From a distance, they would pass as Sand People without question, but up close, Vincent had a feeling they wouldn't be so lucky. Strapping gaffi sticks to their backs, Vincent and Bastila set off in the direction they hoped the Sand People's enclave was with HK following closely behind. Soon enough, they spotted huge spires of sand, their summits rising high into the cloudless blue sky. On the ground below, a group of at least eight Tusken Raiders stood watch. Vincent noticed that there seemed to be a path winding on behind the guards, most likely to the Raider's Enclave.

As luck would have it, when they approached, a massive gust of wind sent a gale of sand their way, giving them reason to lower their heads and shield themselves with an arm. Vincent's assumptions had been right: there was a path leading into the Raider's settlement, and he stopped for a moment to look around. Various Sand People were milling around, some tending to the large herd of Banthas that they depended on, and some were simply walking back and forth. Vincent guessed that these were more sentries and he took great care to avoid them as he trekked to the Enclave's entrance. A good number of turrets were positioned just outside the mat that served as a door, and Vincent sincerely hoped he was never on the wrong end of them.

Luck was on his side as he and his companions slipped into the Enclave unnoticed, but luck would prove to be fleeting as at that precise moment, a Tusken Raider walked by and immediately saw through their disguises. The Raider stopped in surprise and uttered a series of grunts, growls and animalistic noises which made absolutely no sense.

"**Statement: **Master, though I do not believe it was his intention, he did actually communicate something. He is quite shocked that you managed to get this far, and at the moment, he is unsure of what to do."

"Quickly tell him we aren't a threat!" Vincent ordered.

HK proceeded to imitate the noises which the Raider had made, hopefully conveying their message of non-violent intent. The Raider responded once HK was done, and the droid looked thoughtful before speaking to Vincent again.

"**Translation:** He highly doubts that master. But seeing as you have yet to cause any damage, he feels it is his duty to take you captive as a prisoner and bring you before his chieftain. I say we just shoot him."

"No, we're not going to shoot him. Tell him we'll come without resistance."

Once again, HK translated, and the Raider motioned for the trio to follow him. He led them to a small room and indicated that he wanted them to go inside. Following behind, the Raider barked something at them in an angry manner.

"**Translation:** He says you must remove all of the garments you have taken from his fallen comrades, or he will be forced to take them from you. He also says that he doesn't want you filthy humans desecrating anything with your touch, other than what is graciously provided in this room."

"Okay, I guess we strip then," Vincent said while beginning to remove the mask he was wearing. Bastila did the same, and soon they were both standing in nothing but their undergarments, all of the clothes they had previously been wearing now in possession of the Raider standing before them. He barked another short command before exiting the room and placing sentries on either side of the open doorway.

"**Translation: **He says we are to wait here until he comes back."

"I figured as much," Vincent replied while sitting down on the ground with his back against a wooden post. Bastila copied his idea, resting against a post opposite his. Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back against the wood. Seeing as Bastila had scrutinized him while he wasn't looking, Vincent decided to repay the favor and examined her carefully.

She had a graceful air to her, almost regal, and it only served to confirm his notion that she was an Ice Princess, cold and beautiful. Her body was one that he was sure millions of women would have envied; she was slim, athletically built, with just the right amount of muscle and curves to look capable yet feminine. Her arms were slender, though well defined, and her hands were, from his experience, strong and surprisingly deft. His eyes noted that her smooth, porcelain skin was flawless, and her light complexion made her brunette hair seem elegantly dark. Though her lids were closed, he knew that the pale color of her skin also assisted in making her eye color even more striking. Vincent's gaze traveled down her neck to her chest, where he didn't fail to note that she was definitely not lacking in bust, despite the fact that her chest was thankfully less than Himalayan. Her stomach was attractively firm, leading to a petite waist and hips, and her legs were perfectly slender, with just the right amount of toning to make Vincent's mind wander in a slightly naughtier direction.

As his eyes traveled the path back to her face, he felt his own grow slightly hot. Her beautiful blue-grey eyes were widened with embarrassment, though for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. She was the most incredible creation he had ever laid eyes on.

The Tusken Raider was back, however, and HK informed Vincent that they were to see the chieftain now. He stood up and dusted himself off, following the Raider to another room where he was placed before someone who he could only assume was their leader. The chieftain said something that was laced with obvious curiosity and suspicion, and Vincent looked expectantly at HK.

"**Translation:** Master, he is quite curious as to why you have actively sought him out. Most humans avoid his kind, and he is suspicious of what you want."

"Tell him that I'm not here to hurt anyone, but that I need to ask something of him. I would like him to stop his attacks on the Sand Crawlers."

"**Statement:** Very well master, but I would prefer if this ended in bloodshed."

After a brief wait, HK spoke to the chieftain who replied quite quickly.

"**Translation:** He sees no reason to stop the attacks. His people were here first, and the Czerka came and began to tear up their land with those machines."

"Ask him if there is anything I can do to make him stop attacking."

HK spoke again, and the chieftain looked thoughtful. A moment of silence passed, then the leader responded more slowly than before.

"**Translation:** He says that he is in need of moisture vaporators. If you get these for him, he will reduce his attacks on the Czerka Sand Crawlers. You are free to leave the Enclave, but you are not to return until you have the vaporators. However, he does not believe you will return."

"Tell him I will return, and I'll be back with those vaporators."

Vincent, Bastila and HK were escorted outside the Enclave by a particularly sullen Raider who, according to HK, despised humans and was dreading the fact that he actually had to wait for their return, which he was sure would never come. Vincent had given all of their equipment to HK, and he now retrieved it, changing back into his armor and re-equipping himself with his usual array of weapons. Once they were all ready, the trio set out to return to the Czerka office, as that was the only place that would likely have moisture vaporators.

Luckily, they made it back without anything remotely interesting happening. Vincent entered the office and bypassed the Czerka rep that he had spoken with earlier, opting instead to talk with the Rodian that was standing behind the counter at the back of the room.

"I need moisture vaporators. You got any?" Vincent asked quietly.

"Whaddya need those for?"

"Do you need to know?"

"I'd prefer it, yes," the Rodian stated.

"The Sand People's chieftain wants them. If I get them he'll reduce the attacks on the Sand Crawlers. Help me out here buddy?"

"If the Sand People attack less, that'll mean less stress for me. You got it. I've got a pair here for 400 credits. That's a real steal my friend," the Rodian said.

"Here. Thanks," Vincent replied, paying the alien.

"No problem. You come back if you need anything else."

"Will do," Vincent said while exiting the office. "Here HK, hold these."

"**Indignant statement:** While I am a fully functional droid, I resent the fact that I seem to have become a slave for you meatbags!"

"You are not – why do you call humans meatbags?" he asked, remembering that HK had referred to Tanis as one earlier.

"**Statement:** Why not master? You are a mass of tissues. And you're filled with all that water and fluid. All that incessant sloshing...I do not know how it doesn't drive you insane."

Vincent was silent for a moment then replied, "Neither do I..." Shaking his head at this new imponderable question, Vincent barely noticed a Jawa before he ran over it.

"Oh crap, I'm sorry! Didn't see you there, I was kind of zoned out," he apologized.

"Is nothing it. You human yes yes? You help Iziz, Jawa people leader, you will?"

"Umm, sure. What do you need from me?"

"My people held captive by the natives of the sand. Prisoners locked up no way out. You free them? Good stuff Iziz has you need I think. Good maps, good for hunting, not get anywhere without them," the small alien squeaked rapidly.

"Okay, I'll look for your friends Iziz."

"Iziz thanks kind human.Wishes luck."

Sighing, Vincent turned around and led his friends out of Anchorhead and across the desert, back into the Tusken Raider's camp. He felt the glares of hostility on his back, be he also felt the amazed looks of others, staring on in wonder at this human who had kept his word and come back. He stopped in front ot the Tusken Raider that had been instructed to wait for him and showed him the moisture vaporators. The Raider was obviously shocked that Vincent had returned, with the moisture vaporators no less, and he hastened to bring the group before the chieftain.

The leader was also in a state of bewilderment; no other human had ever done anything for them that remotely resembled kindness. In his gratitude, the chieftain gave Vincent his gaffi stick and stated he could explore the compound as long as he didn't desecrate anything. Vincent asked if they were holding any Jawas captive, and the chieftain thought a moment. HK translated once the leader responded.

"**Translation:** Yes master, they have the Jawas you seek. He says you may take them; they are no longer of any use to his tribe."

Vincent found and released the Jawas, escorting them back to Iziz.The Jawa leaderwas quite happy that this friendly human had returned those of his tribe, and he presented Vincent with a map to the Eastern Dune Sea, a place that was uncharitable unless you knew certain things. Which Iziz fortunately did, and graciously passed his knowledge on to Vincent.

Studying the map carefully he realized that he had actually already seen the entrance to the Eastern Dune Sea, he just hadn't realized it. Wearily, the group of three trudged through the sand and sweltering heat to _another_ part of the desert, only to be taken aback by the fact that there was already someone else there. Two people, actually, a Twi'lek and a man. The man looked impatient and fidgeted nervously, glancing around rapidly.

"Dammit, I'm not waiting anymore! How big can this dragon of yours be?" he snapped, running into the cave that served as the Krayt dragon's lair. Even from this distance, Vincent could see that the creature was massive, the largest living thing he had ever seen. The man was either drunk, high, foolish, or had an extremely pressing death wish to want to go charging in there with only a blaster and a couple of grenades.

Sure enough, the dragon was roused by the idiot human running into his cave, and eagerly snapped up his tasty snack, though the snack didn't go down quietly. The man let out a bloodcurdling scream before being bitten in two and gulped down by the beast. Vincent had come to stand next to the Twi'lek who winced when he heard his companion scream in horror.

"I told him he should have waited," the alien stated sadly, turning to Vincent. "I know you...you sold that wraid plate that Fazza gave 500 credits for. I heard what you did for that woman. That was very kind of you."

Vincent simply nodded at the compliment, his attention focused on the Krayt dragon.

"He's incredible, no? Sadly, I have to deny him a fair fight, but that is beside the point. I could use your help, friend," the Twi'lek said. Vincent sighed inwardly. He was exhausted, near boiling in his titanium/alloy/whatever else Calo had put in his armor, and his temperament was very short. However, he realized that getting rid of the Krayt dragon would probably reveal the Star Map, and anything was worth doing to find another Map.

"All right, what do I need to do?"

"You need to lure a herd of Bantha over here to the mouth of the cave. It's the dragon's favorite food, and the only thing that will draw him out of his cave during his hibernation."

"Fine. I'll be back in a couple," Vincent said as he began to walk in the direction of the Banthas.

"You'll need Bantha fodder if –"

"I've got it!" he interrupted holding up a fistful of the Bantha's favorite snack. Unfortunately, the Banthas did not want to cooperate, and it took a good several minutes before he could get them to even think about moving. Vincent was very close to losing his temper when the Bantha stopped again.

"Holy hell! What's the matter _this_ time?" he exclaimed. He received his answer as a group of three Elite warriors came charging out of nowhere. Apparently, the Tusken Raider tribes out here didn't take kindly to people borrowing their animals.

"Oh you did not just do that..." he stated as he ignited his lightsaber. "You did not just give me an eat-shit-and-die look through that ugly ass mask of yours..."

All three of the Elites decided to concentrate on Vincent, though his companions _were_ with him, and his diminishing patience soon vanished. One of the Elites landed a lucky blow on the side of Vincent's jaw, sending him crashing into the sand, blood gushing everywhere. Getting back to his feet, he was unable to dodge the next blow to his left elbow, shattering it and rendering his whole arm completely useless.

Abruptly, Vincent felt something inside of him snap. An incredible rage engulfed him and he let out a furious howl, pushing the Force out from his body. The air around him crackled, and a massive barrage of Force lightning rained down on the unsuspecting Elites, frying them all instantly. Vincent was breathing heavily and clutching his damaged elbow, surveying the carnage with a cold, hard gaze. He slowly attempted to heal himself, staggering back to the herd of Banthas who were standing there as if nothing unusual had just happened. Wearily, he grabbed the fodder that he had dropped and led the herd to where the Twi'lek was standing.

"There," he grunted.

"Good," the Twi'lek said excitedly. "Now we just have to wait."

Vincent felt Bastila's heavy gaze on him and he turned to look at her, his eyes warning her not to preach. She shook her head and turned away, telling herself she would bring it up later.

They weren't kept waiting long, as the gigantic creature soon came lumbering out of his lair to feast on the defenseless Banthas. He never reached them, however. Within three enormous steps, the dragon was swallowed up in the explosions of countless mines that had been cleverly hidden by the Twi'lek hunter, plummeting to the ground with an earth – shattering crash.

"I still regret that I denied him a fair fight," The Twi'lek repeated.

"Life's not fair," Vincent replied harshly, walking past the Krayt dragon's corpse into the cave beyond. Numerous bodies littered the ground in various stages of carnage but the only thing that held Vincent's attention was the Star Map in the very back of the cave. He downloaded its contents into his data pad that held the information from the rest of the Maps, and watched as the screen updated itself.

"Three maps down, what...two to go? What's left, Mannan and Korriban?" he muttered to himself. Suddenly, a body that looked particularly recent on the Krayt dragon's list of snacks caught his eye. Making his way to it, he frowned as he realized what he was looking at.

"Bastila," he said softly. "I think you need to see this."

His female companion walked over to where he was standing and looked down. Vincent heard her sharp intake of breath as her eyes fell upon the mangled corpse at their feet.

"No..." she said barely above a whisper. "Father..."

Vincent saw a single tear run down her cheek as she bent down to retrieve the holocron that held all of her father's personal thoughts. A sharp pain manifested itself in his heart, and at that moment, he wished that he could do anything to stop her from crying.

"Bastila...I'm sorry," was all he could come up with, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. However, this only seemed to make it worse as she instantly dissolved into pitiful sobs. Vincent was slightly at a loss for what to do, so he did the only thing that seemed right: turning Bastila to face him, he pulled her into a gentle embrace. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his neck, getting as close to him as she could.

"I...just wish...I could have said...goodbye," Bastila managed in between sobs.

Vincent winced at the pain in her words. "Shhh..." he said, softly stroking her hair. Her tears had subsided for a moment and he slowly pushed her back so he could look her in the eye. He opened his mouth to say something, but his words were lost in his throat at the look of utter helplessness and despair on Bastila's face. For the second time in as many minutes, Vincent did the only thing that seemed right.

Placing an arm around her waist, he pulled her back to him as much as he could. Gently, he placed a light kiss on her forehead, still holding her comfortingly. Vincent cautiously checked Bastila's face for her reaction to his forwardness. Her expression was, for the most part, unchanged. She still looked miserable, she was still crying, though silently and now with closed eyes, but something _had_ altered. She was still clinging to him as if her life depended on it, and he had no intention of letting her go any time soon, but as compared with before, her embrace was less desperate. Bastila's blue-grey eyes opened slowly, locking onto his emerald ones and staring deep within them. A tense but not entirely uncomfortable silence had fallen, and she was the first to break it.

"We should be getting back to the Cantina," she said letting go of him and stepping away, albeit very unhurriedly.

"Yeah, your mother will be wanting that holocron."

They trip back to the Cantina was made in silence, neither Jedi wishing to attempt an effort at pointless conversation.

"**Probing query:** Is there something wrong master? You look troubled."

"Shut up HK," Vincent said irritably.

"**Indignant answer:** As you wish master, though I can't help but feel some hostility from you."

"How 'bout if I rip off one of your arms and beat you to death with it? Would you prefer open violence?"

"**Clarification:** I will be silent now master, I was simply stating an observation."

He shook his head, partially amazed at HK's ability to recognize that he was distressed, and partially in frustration that the droid had brought it up. He ignored this for the moment as they were now inside the Cantina and rapidly approaching Bastila's mother.

"Do you have the holocron?"

"I do mother, but I'm not sure if I should give it to you or not," Bastila said slowly.

"What? You would deny me even that?" Helena said in disbelief.

"_Bastila." _Vincent stated in her mind.

"_What?"_

"_Give your mother the holocron. She needs it more than you do."_

Bastila sighed. "No mother, I wouldn't stoop that low. Here."

Helena took the holocron and studied it for a moment, then pressed it back into Bastila's still outstretched hand.

"Take it. It was for you anyway. No dear, I mean it," she added when her daughter made to object.

"Are you really sick, mother?" Bastila asked, more out of curiosity than malice.

"Yes, I am. I was telling the truth when I said I'm dieing, Bastila. It's the reason your father went on this treasure hunt, to pay for my treatments. I begged him not to, but you know your father."

"I'm sorry, I had no idea." Bastila pulled out a good sized wad of credits and handed them to her mother. "Here, take these 500 credits, it's all I have. Go to Coruscant and see a doctor there. I want to talk more; I'll come there after I'm finished with my mission."

Her mother looked as if she was going to protest, but apparently decided against it. "Alright. It was good seeing you again Bastila. I'm sorry about everything dear...I want you to know that." Helena then turned to Vincent with a friendly, yet at the same time, an almost threatening air. "You take care of my daughter, you hear me?"

Vincent couldn't repress a snort of indignation at the woman's question. "As if she'd let me!"

"You make her let you," Helena said seriously. "She's strong and stubborn, too much like her father in that respect." She pulled him down by the collar of his armor, then leaned up and said quietly enough so only Vincent could hear, "But she likes you. I know my daughter better than she thinks. I've heard all about the rules they put on you Jedi...no emotional attachments, bah! She needs you more than she admits; you'd better be there for her or I'll be the one person you'd hoped that you had never met."

Helena then walked out of the Cantina, leaving a very bewildered Vincent behind.

"What did she say?" Bastila asked.

"Um, she complimented me then threatened my life. It was the typical "take care of my daughter or you'll die" speech." Bastila gave him an apologetic look. "Hey, I planned on taking care of you anyway, so a death threat only strengthens my resolve on that point."

"Yes, my mother can – what the hell!" she exclaimed, whirling around. A tipsy looking man with a lopsided grin and an obvious lust for Bastila's body was standing near her, looking very pleased with himself.

"Yeh, she'sh got tight assh alright," he slurred laughing. "But wha about up here?" He reached for one of her breasts, but his hand stopped a few inches short. Vincent was gripping the man's wrist firmly with a look on his face that clearly stated he didn't like the drunk at all.

"If you wish to keep your hand, I suggest you retract it now," he said, his voice low and threatening.

"Oh yeah? What, ish she you girl or summin?"

Vincent released his hold on the man's wrist and stared at him hard. "No. But she's not yours either, so keep your filthy paws to yourself."

"I don't like your tone," the drunk growled, a little more sober than before.

"He is correct in telling you to keep your hands to yourself," Bastila interrupted, her voice hard. "If you wish to keep all of your appendages, don't touch me again."

The man was easily a foot taller than Bastila, bigger than Vincent in both height and weight, and he laughed loudly at the petite woman's threat of dismemberment.

"Or you'll do what? Slap me? I've eaten things bigger than you, honey!"

"Call me that one more time..." she growled. Vincent was amazed - he had never seen her this close to truly losing her temper before. Wisely, he stayed out of her way and let her handle the situation. He didn't want to lose a hand as well.

"Call you honey? Okay. How about sweetheart?"

The poor drunk never knew what hit him as he flew across the Cantina and slammed into the bar, sliding down to the floor in a state of unconsciousness. One could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed this display, and all eyes were on Bastila. She was staring at the man's body with no small amout of disgust.

"Is there something incredibly interesting about us that requires you to stop and stare every time we do something in this Cantina?"she addressed the small crowd. Some shook their heads but most just sat there, still in awe of what the Jedi had just done.

"Can we please leave now?" Bastila asked irritably.

"I think so. Is there anything else we have to do before we go?" Vincent replied.

"Not that I can think of. I just want to get off this wretched rock."

The trio exited the Cantina and made their way back to the ship slowly, the two Jedi exhasuted from the long stay.

"Did you Force push that poor guy?" Vincent couldn't help it - he had to know.

Bastila frowned. "He asked for it. I told him not to do that."

"I know, it was completely called for, but it was just funny. A little thing like you taking down a guy that big. That'll be one of the memories that sticks with me for a long time."

Once inside the **_Ebon Hawk_**, both Jedi went to their respective refreshers and had a vigorous shower. Bastila immediately retreated to her room, and Vincent took to wandering the various halls of the ship. Soon, however, he found himself in front of her door, despite his best efforts to avoid acting like a stalker. Pausing and holding his breath, he listened through the thin metal plating that protected her from the rest of the world.

He could hear that she was crying again - with time to stop and think, her father's death overwhelmed her - but this time, it wasn't the sound of the sobs he had witnessed earlier in the desert. It was the sound of hopeless, body-wracking tears that left one gasping for breath but unable to stop, simply because the emotion was too powerful. For a moment, their bond opened, and Vincent could acutely feel the grief over the loss of her father, and what troubled him more, how alone she felt.

Determined to fix that, he took a deep breath, raised his balled fist, and knocked lightly on the door.


	9. Chapter 9

Geebus! My internet went out for a few days, and we couldn't figure out how to get it back on! I was afraid that we'd never get it back, but thankfully we did, and here's chapter nine.

Warning: fluffiness abounds! Gotta love the fluff!

This was actually kind of weird to write...dunno why...eh, whatever. I guess I still prefer the action chapters to the complete romance ones, but I try my best not to make them too mushy and stupid. I write things that I'd probably end up doing...or that I secretly wish would happen!

Okay, you wanted a poll Samurai Demon-God Sekikage, I'll give you a poll! So, everyone who reveiws, please give your vote on this poll, kay?

**Who is the greatest Dark Jedi/Sith Lord of all time?**

**1. Exar Kun  
2. Darth Revan  
3. Naaga Sadow  
4. Darth Maul  
5. Darth Sidious  
6. Darth Vader**

So far the votes are: Exar Kun - 1, Darth Revan - 2. Everybody else has 0 votes.

* * *

The sound of her tears subsided for a moment and he heard her call out softly, "Who is it?" 

"It's Vincent," he responded, nervously shifting. Why was he so anxious all of a sudden? The sound of her soft footsteps reached his ears and he guessed that she was just on the other side of the door.

"What do you need?"

The question in itself was innocent, but he knew the underlying message.

"Um...do you mind if I come in?" he knew it wasn't the best question to ask, but he really needed to see her. The door stared coldly at him for a few seconds longer than he felt comfortable, and he wondered if he had seriously messed up any chance he had of getting close enough to help.

"I'm not really...presentable right now," Bastila's voice filtered through the metal, surprise lacing her response.

"I know this isn't a good time for you..."

There was another brief pause, then, "No, it's alright. Actually, I have something to ask you." The door opened with a low whooshing noise, and Vincent found that he had been right. She was standing on the other side of the door, leaning against the wall, and practically the only thing he could see was her face.

Her lashes were wet, her eyes reddened from crying, and her cheeks moist from the previously shed tears. Bastila wiped at the corners of her eyes and motioned for him to come in, the female Jedi taking a seat on the edge of her bed. Vincent had never been in her room before, and he felt awkward to a certain degree. This was a new setting for him, unfamiliar territory, and he hated being at a disadvantage. Mentally, he kicked himself for thinking of this like he would a battle, strategizing and sizing up his options; he needed to approach this much differently. Women were definitely not as simple as a battle; oh no, they were like trying to win the whole war with an army of one.

Said army of one was standing a few feet inside of Bastila's doorway, looking very ill at ease.

"I don't bite," she couldn't help teasing.

He raised an amused eyebrow. "Oh? And what can I do to make you change that?"

She gave him a look of mock horror and playfully threw a pillow at him, which, of course, he caught with ease.

"See, you're better already."

"Vincent, you didn't have to come put up with my sniveling just to cheer me up," she chided.

"No, I do. I promised your mother I would take care of you, and by the Force, I'll take care of you. Now I have the distinct feeling that I interrupted your crying..." Vincent trailed.

Bastila smiled bitterly and looked slightly embarrassed but did not respond.

"Well, if you feel the need to cry again, my shirt is quite adept at soaking up moisture," he offered.

"I'll keep that in mind next time," she answered. Then, switching back to buisiness,"I have a very important question I've been wanting to ask you if you'll permit it."

"What, you need my permission to ask me a question? I'm not going to be offended if you just zing me with a random interview. Go ahead, ask away," Vincent half-teased.

"Back in the Eastern Dune Sea, when those three Elite Raiders attacked...I couldn't help but notice that you used Force Lightning," she began.

"And?"

"And," she continued, "that is a Dark side power. I am curious as to how you know this skill, as neither I nor Jolee has taught you it in any form."

He shrugged, honestly at a lack for a true answer. "I really don't know. I just...well, I kind of snapped, you know? Lost my temper. I felt this...this power...sort of boiling beneath the surface. I just pushed all of the Force out from my body, and that's what happened."

"And you also drove a man to commit suicide," Bastila pointed out somewhat harshly.

Vincent winced. "Yes, about that...I can't tell you how sorry I am. If I would've known he would lose it like that..." He sighed. "I would go back and change it if I could, but bad decisions are things I've learned to live with. They seem to be a common occurrence in my life."

Bastila sensed that he truly was repentant for his earlier cruel prodding, but she still didn't like the fact that it had occurred at all. Was part of his old nature coming back? She sincerely hoped not.

"Um, I'm glad you patched things up with your mother," he said quietly.

She felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over her at the mention of her mother and tears stung the back of her eyes. "Yes, I am glad I was able to at least be civil to her. I fear that I wouldn't have done as well had you not been there. You're becoming quite involved in many aspects of my life Vincent." It was more of a joke than a serious observation, but it was true nonetheless.

"I _am_ bonded to you." His response was hushed, his gaze on an incredibly interesting piece of metal on the floor.

"Ah yes. Our bond." She couldn't bring herself to say any more though. The subject was almost painful, at least for her, knowing why they were like this, and he didn't seem overly fond of the topic either.

"I want to help you," Vincent said looking at her intently. "With...with what you're going through. I know that you're father's death is hard on you, but I want to let you know that I'm here for you. We all are. As cliché as this sounds, you aren't alone. _Especially_ since you're bonded to me. You're never alone."

"Yes, I'm acutely aware of that."

"Um, well...I can go if you really don't want me here." Her tone of voice had been less than friendly when she had answered him and she immediately regretted it.

"Please don't," she had gently grabbed his upper arm as he had risen to leave. "I didn't mean that."

His green eyes were absolutely intoxicating in the dim lighting that filled her room. Their normally vivid color was reduced to a darker, more mysterious shade, and Bastila found herself staring into his eyes for a long moment. He said nothing; he simply stood there, intensely aware of her hand upon his arm and the proximity in which they were standing, their bodies nearly touching.

Gently, he removed her hand from his arm, never letting go of it until it was back at her side.

"All right then, I'll stay."

Bastila looked relieved, and Vincent could honestly say that he was very glad that she hadn't wanted him to go. Once they were both seated, Bastila fidget for a moment before speaking.

"I'm supposed to open myself to you, right?" she asked, unable to hold back the sarcasm. It was a natural defense mechanism for her.

He smiled patiently. "That's the idea."

Taking a deep breath, she began. "I'm not really used to this, so forgive me if I'm not clear. I am sad over the loss of my father, but I feel it's more than that. It's like...part of me died when he passed away. I have all these happy memories of me and my father together, and now I have his holocron, but...it hurts more than I thought it would," she explained, staying relatively on the surface.

"Bastila look at me." Her piercing blue-grey orbs locked onto his emerald ones and he felt his pulse quicken. "You don't have to be strong all of the time," Vincent said,knowing exactly what she meant but refused to say."Losing someone you care deeply about is hard. You're not prepared for it, you can't be prepared for it, and it's going to hurt for a long time. For just this once, please, let it go. Just...let someone else be strong for you." **Let _me_, **he finished inside of his head.

Bastila felt the very strong urge to simply let him hold her, something that she was one hundred percent sure he would do without a moment's hesitation. _That's absurd_, she reasoned. _I can't do that. Even if he is just being friendly...or...why does he want to comfort me so much?_

"Vincent, I get the feeling that you came in here for more reasons than just comforting me," she stated. His eyes widened ever so slightly and she knew she had hit home.

"Yes...you would be right in saying that," he acknowledged, looking somewhat abashed. "I enjoy spending time with you. It seems more natural than being with everyone else out there, probably because of our bond. Even you said we share a certain 'intimacy.'"

Why couldn't she have phrased it differently? Why did she have to pick intimacy of all words? Admittedly, at the time, she had no idea that their relationship would become like this, trading barbs, arguing and generally behaving like an old married couple.

For a moment, her resolve to stand by the Jedi Code wavered. What if this was the right thing to do? What was she missing out on by ignoring what she felt about him? Was she missing out on anything? What _exactly_ did he feel about her? Now there was a question.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Bastila tried to sound nonchalant, but she knew that he would pick up on the nervousness in her voice.

"Does this have to do with you?"

_How could he have possibly figured that out?_ "Yes..."

He rubbed his chin for a moment and Bastila noticed that he had once again shaved, leaving only a tight goatee to adorn his face. His hands were large yet surprisingly gentle, though she knew how deadly they could be if the situation called for it. Bastila realized that she had often found herself staring at him like this and she wondered if he had noticed.

"Yes, I have noticed actually." It took her a moment to realize that not only had he read her mind, his voice didn't carry the usual inflection of pleasure that it had when he pointed out things like that; he had simply given her a straight answer. Nevertheless, she found herself embarrassed that she was so obvious.

"I don't mind. Besides, I do it to you too," Vincent countered. "And yeah, go ahead and ask whatever it is you were going to ask."

"I would appreciate it if you would stay out of my mind, Vincent," Bastila said.

He looked hurt but didn't snap back at her. "I wasn't in your mind," he replied. "You didn't sheild the thought."

"Oh," was all she could think of.Bastila shifted on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath, preparing herself for the question concerning their 'relationship.' It was ironic really, the effect he had on her when all of this was her fault. She should have better control over this, but she didn't; Vincent, however, seemed to view it a laughing matter, a fact that infuriated her to no end.

They were Jedi! They were _not_ supposed to have any sort of emotional attachment, yet he attempted to get her to fall for him at every possible opportunity. And she had to admit that he was succeeding...

"You still there?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Sorry. I wanted to know...how you felt about 'us'. About all of this," she waived a hand in the air. "About...everything, I guess."

The look on his face told her that this was about to get interesting. His eyes had widened once again, his jaw was slack, and he had a frightened expression on his features. Vincent blinked and shook his head, rousing himself from the momentary stupor that had crept over him. _What_ had she just asked? How he felt about her? How could he possibly tell her that? If he told her the truth...he supposed that he shouldn't lie to her, it wouldn't be fair, but his fear of rejection was threatening to override his sense of fairness.

"Um..." he rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, there isn't supposed to _be_ an 'us' according to the Jedi Code but I think you know my opinion of that. How I feel about you in particular? I think you're an amazing woman, and I'd be lucky to spend the rest of my life with someone half as incredible as you are. Assuming I wasn't a Jedi of course. Now," Vincent was standing and he paced around her room for a few seconds before continuing. "About this whole mission? I hate it. Absolutely hate it. But hey, somebody's gotta save the galaxy right? And who better than a late-comer Jedi with mad skills, a Padawan whose Battle Meditation has saved the Republic's sorry backside countless times already, an uber-effective Republic officer, and a motley crew of aliens and droids. C'mon gang; let's go defeat the evil Sith Lord! We'll all be great friends and it'll be good for the Republic too. Hey, maybe they'll make a movie or something about us later! Whaddaya say? Oh yes," he rolled his eyes.

Bastila smiled at his sarcasm and shook her head. He definitely wasn't afraid to express his opinion, and often in the funniest way possible, especially if he didn't like something. She had felt a rush of pleasure when he had said that she was incredible, however, she also noticed that he had conveniently stayed neutral on the subject of their relationship. Her happiness was short lived as the thought of her father once again invaded her mind, and much to her shame, she felt tears slip from her eyes and run down her cheeks.

Vincent felt powerless; he wanted to help her, but he wasn't good at this kind of thing. Sitting down next to her on the bed, he placed an arm around her shoulders soothingly. Much to his surprise, Bastila turned, wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his shirt, crying softly. Vincent shifted his position to better her comfort and encircled his other arm around her smaller frame, embracing her gently.

She fit into his arms perfectly. Holding her like this, it just felt so... right. Vincent could smell the shampoo that she had used on her hair, mingling with her body wash to create a light, fresh smell that he found himself enjoying, perhaps too much. He discovered that she was supple as well, her body easily molding to his. Part of him wished he could stay like this forever, and part of him knew that eventually it would have to end, a thought he chose to ignore for the moment, letting himself get lost in the feelings she stirred within him.

Through the sadness that shrouded her senses, Bastila had felt his arm slip around her shoulders in a gesture of comfort and she had given in. She had turned to him, holding him tightly as she had done on Tatooine and pressing her face into the soft cotton of his shirt. He had moved then, wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her closer in an effort to ease her pain. To her, he was like a warm bed of soft steel, strong, invincible, yet tender and gentle. With her face buried in his chest, she could smell his cologne, masculine but not overpowering, a scent that she found relaxing.

"You okay?" he asked quietly once her tears had abated, Bastila feeling a vibration deep in his chest as he spoke. She nodded her head in response, turning it so her ear was pressed against his body. Bastila could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as it thudded in his chest and she snuggled as close to his warmth as she could manage, causing, she noticed with a smile, a small jump in his heart rate.

Vincent's leg had fallen asleep, and under normal circumstances, he probably wouldn't have said anything, but his nerves were firing very painfully and he didn't think he could take it for much longer.

"Hey Bas?"

"Hmm?"

"Uh...my leg's fallen asleep."

She pulled back and looked down to find that she was indeed sitting on his leg.

"Oh. Sorry." She moved off of his leg to the side and he rubbed it vigorously for a few seconds, wincing in discomfort. When she had shifted to the side, she had inadvertently placed herself between his legs, a fact that she now noticed with some awkwardness. She also noticed that he hadn't let go of her; while he had been massaging his leg with one hand, he had kept his free arm draped around her shoulders. He got a thoughtful look on his face just before she felt herself lift in the air.

"May I inquire as to _why_ we are levitating?"

"Because I'm too lazy to actually get up and scoot us backwards," he responded with a smile, and Bastila realized that they had moved toward the head of her bed. Vincent set them down gently and leaned back against the wall, still firmly in possession of her.

"How many rules do you think we're breaking right now?" Bastila asked softly but seriously.

"Well, unless there's a rule against snuggling, I don't believe we're breaking any."

"With our luck they've come up with a rule against that since we've been gone."

He snorted. "You're probably right. But if they have, we don't know about it, so I don't consider us to be breaking it. I wouldn't care if we were any way, you know that."

"Yes, I know. To be honest, I don't think I would care either."

"Bastila! Since when have _you_ broken rules?" Vincent asked in exaggerated shock.

"Since you came along," she answered poking him in the stomach, only to find that it did little good. It was like poking a rock.

"Good lord."

"Heh, don't get too excited there. I saw that coming."

"I was about to say..." Bastila responded with a raised eyebrow. He smiled adorably and she shook her head, gently extricating herself from his grasp and sitting next to him instead of on him. He didn't need any encouragement and she felt somewhat uncomfortable with getting that close...on a bed. She trusted him but there was a boundary that needed to be set. He seemed to respect her subtle rebuff and clasped his hands together over his middle, his fingers interlaced with each other.

"Did you do this with Brynn?" She knew it probably wasn't the most tactful way to put it, but she was honestly curious as to how they had spent their time together during some of the thickest fighting in the Mandalorian War.

He was silent for a long time, though he hadn't tensed as if uncomfortable with the question and she could feel no anxiety coming from his end of the bond. When she looked at his face again, she found that he was repressing a grin.

"Vincent?"

"Um, well...sort of..." he answered her question with effort.

"_Sort of_? What is that..." her eyes widened as she figured out what his somewhat cryptic response had really meant. "Vincent!"

"We were in the middle of a war!" he protested.

"I regret asking. I don't need to think about that."

"Is it that repulsive?"

"Not repulsive, just...disturbing."

"Why?"

She looked at him in disbelief. "Why? Because it's thinking about you sleeping with another woman, that's why! That's just not right."

"Okay then, picture yourself instead of Brynn."

"Vincent!" Bastila exclaimed for the second time in as many minutes, grabbing a pillow and attempting to smack him in the face with it, but with little success. Vincent stopped her easily by blocking the pillow and pinning her arm against his body. Bastila threw her weight to the side forcing them to roll of the bed onto the floor; Vincent impacted the ground with a satisfying "oof" and released her for a brief moment, giving her enough time to try and grab the pillow again. Just as she felt the fabric within her grasp, Vincent's arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back, dragging her away from her goal. Bastila sent a wave of Force behind her knocking him away long enough for her to retrieve the pillow and turn to face him, a mistake that would cost her the wrestling match. Vincent had already picked himself up off the floor and realized that she was standing right in front of the bed; the last thing she registered before he lunged at her was the look of utter mischief sparkling in his eyes and the wicked grin on his face.

They both slammed into the soft mattress of the bed, Bastila effectively pinned beneath Vincent's weight, her arms splayed uselessly above her head and her legs on either side of his, negating any chance she had of kneeing him in the groin.

"Not fair!" she grunted struggling futilely against him.

"I don't play fair." She had closed her eyes when he had tackled her and now she opened them to find his emerald orbs staring intently into hers barely two inches away, a grin still plastered on his face. Leaning just close enough to make her heart race, he spoke barely above a whisper.

"I win." Vincent stood, helping her up off the bed as he did so. "Oh man...I'm wiped. I'm gonna hit the sack, you should too. See you in the morning."

He held her in a gentle hug, his arms sliding around her waist with ease. She reciprocated without a second thought, encircling his neck and pulling him down to her level. The embrace lasted for a good while, as neither Jedi wished to be the first to let go and ruin the moment. Vincent finally released her, taking a small step back and giving her an affectionate smile.

"Sleep well," he said, raising a hand to tenderly touch her cheek for a brief second. Bastila watched him leave with an air of disappointment. She missed him already, and he had only been gone what...two seconds? She needed to get it together. They couldn't be together, even if they wanted to, so why was she fooling herself during the time that they spent with each other?

_Because you want to be with him,_ a voice in the back of her head reminded her. She sighed, realizing that she could no longer deny what she felt for him. But then the fact of who he was...what he was...that complicated things. She wished that she had known him before all of this, before the Masters had gotten to him, just so she could have seen the man he really was. Bastila feared that she was letting herself be lulled into a false sense of security, that everything he was now, it was all a lie, a façade he threw up to please those around him. She wasn't even sure of that, he always seemed so sincere, so willing to help...Bastila winced at the headache that had begun to throb in the back of her skull.

Slowly, she slipped under the sheets of her bed and found that it was still warm from where they had been sitting scant minutes ago. As she drifted off to sleep, she had a foreboding sense of evil, a premonition that something terrible was about to happen. Bastila dismissed the thought as a fit of over cautiousness and let herself become enveloped in the welcome darkness of sleep.

Vincent had felt it as well, an evil presence, dark and menacing and seemingly drawing ever closer no matter what they did. If Revan and Malak had gone to the same planets they were going to now, searching for the same Star Maps, then it would only make sense of Malak knew exactly where they would be next. Granted, he had no way of knowing which planet they would go to, but there were only two choices left, so he likely had his options covered. He figured that the Dark Lord himself probably wasn't anywhere near either Mannan or Korriban, but he had probably left the most capable men behind to keep watch.

Vincent didn't like it; there was no way out, and he _always_ had an escape. Silently, he cursed the Jedi Council for sending them on this mission, knowing full well the dangers that they faced and not caring in the least. How could they not have realized that Malak would soon figure out what they were doing? Just because he wasn't as tactful as Revan was didn't mean he was a complete idiot; anyone could have realized their intentions. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Vincent vainly wracked his brain for a solution to their newest problem. There was no way he was going to let Malak get anywhere near Bastila, not as long as he was alive and able to put up a fight. And the thought of what would happen to the rest of his friends...he shuddered at the images that his mind produced.

"You should be in bed," a feminine voice said. He looked up to see Mission standing before him looking concerned.

"I'm a Jedi, and Jedi don't sleep according to Carth."

Mission smiled at his joke and sat down next to him. "What's wrong?"

Vincent was only mildly surprised that she had noticed his distress, she was very observant; she had to be to get by in a city like Taris. He sighed and rubbed his close shaven hair for a moment, debating on whether or not to tell her the true issue. Deciding that she was as much a part of this team as anyone else and she deserved to know what was going on, he turned his head to look at her.

"We're trapped," he stated simply.

"By Malak?"

He nodded. "I think he knows what we're doing. He knows we're searching for the Star Maps, and he knows that we only have two planets left to visit."

"So no matter where we go, somebody will be waiting for us," Mission said quietly.

"I'm sorry I got you mixed up with all of this," Vincent apologized.

"Hey, I came with you because I wanted to. You helped me and Big Z Plus, you seemed nice enough, and I didn't meet many nice people on Taris."

"I hope you never have to see me when I'm angry then."

Mission gave him a quizzical look.

"On Tatooine, three Elite Warrior Tusken Raiders attacked me, and I lost my temper and ended up frying them all with Force lightning. Not pretty."

"I guess it's a good thing you're on our side then, huh?"

"Sometimes I wonder whose side I'm really on. I mean, sure I want to save the Republic, and sure, I hate Malak as much as the next guy, but this whole Jedi thing...it just isn't me. I feel...held back. Like the Masters didn't tell me something. Like Bastila's not telling me something."

"It's funny; I don't see you as a Jedi. I just see you as you," Mission admitted.

"I'm glad to know that my role doesn't define me. And I'm glad that someone else sees it too, because I don't feel like a Jedi. I know that right now, I'm on the 'Light side' of the path, but I've always wondered, is the 'Dark side' really as bad as they make it out to be? I mean, couldn't it be possible to master both? Some say that's what Revan did, but that the Masters didn't see it," Vincent said, not really talking to Mission anymore, but thinking aloud.

"I've always wondered what Revan was like. Everyone says that he was handsome, charismatic, and a born leader. That he could make people do anything, and that he was a military genius. He had to be to make the Republic pull out of the hole it had dug itself in during the Mandalorian War."

"I think that there was more to Revan's fall than people have been led to believe. I don't think that he was consumed by the Dark side like everyone says he was. Just listening to his history from Master Dorak, I felt everyone was too quick to judge Revan's motives, that they were eager to slap the 'evil Sith' label on him and be done with it. They didn't want to see the bigger picture. But I could be completely wrong, so don't quote me on that Mission," he mused.

"Carth seems to think that Revan was as much of an evil, volatile brute as the rest of the universe does," she pointed out.

"He's just angry over the betrayal of one of his friends. A man that he considered his mentor, Saul Karath, joined the Sith because of Revan and Malak and Carth ended up losing his wife and his son in the bombardment of Telos. I don't blame him for being angry, or for wanting revenge. If they had taken someone away from me...if one of my closest friends had taken someone away from me like that, I would be out for blood too."

"You don't sound very Jedi-like, Vincent," Carth's voice said from the hallway to the cockpit.

"Yeah, well if you've been eavesdropping on this whole conversation then you'd know that I don't feel very Jedi-like," Vincent shot back.

"You'd better get real Jedi-like real soon, because Mannan has strict neutrality rules, and the last thing we need is for you to go Dark side on us with some more Force lightning and have all of the Selkath all over our collective asses," Carth said jokingly.

"God, did she tell the whole ship about that?"

"No, just me and Jolee. The old man seemed to think it was pretty funny, and to be honest, I'd of wanted to see that. Betcha those Sand People had no idea what hit them."

"I don't think they lived long enough to realize that they had been hit. How long 'till we dock in Mannan?"

"Enough time for you to get a good night's sleep for once."

"Yeah, a good night's sleep in the middle of the day. I swear, Tatooine must've thrown off my internal clock, 'cause I have no idea what time it is. I just know it's not nighttime. Crap," Vincent said checking a small clock that was on the wall, "it's 3:30! Tell me how I've managed not to sleep for two days now."

"Why's your shirt wet?" Mission asked innocently.

Vincent felt a wave of embarrassment threatening to cause a blush. "Uh...Bastila was crying. She just found out that her father died, and I wanted to make sure she was okay, and she ended up crying again.

"So you went to 'comfort' her, huh?" Mission teased.

"Not like _that_! I...you know what? I'm going to go to bed before this gets out of hand and I make a complete fool out of myself. Good night." Vincent retreated to his bunk in the crew quarters and collapsed on the small bed with a heavy sigh.

Maybe some good sleep would help him think of a way to get out of the trap he knew they were walking into.


	10. Chapter 10

O.O Holy freaking cow...it's been a loooong time, and I apologize profusely. I blame life. It likes to get in my way. So, here's the next chapter, one that is much longer than the rest (over 10000 words, if I am correct). This was written over a long period of time, so I apologize if it isn't a smooth as some of the other chapters. I've put a lot of time and effort into this, but as usual, I don't like all of it. But, that is why I count on you to review and tell me what's wrong. It really does help.

Oh, Raze, I lied. I was going to have a major moment between Vincent and Bastila, but that didn't end up happening. The chapter was just too long already. It'll hopefully be in the next one.

Once again, please review and tell me what I screwed up or did great on. This was a compilation of many different sessions, so I'm hoping it's okay.

Note: there **is **a "moment" bt Vincent/Revan and Bastila in the Sith base (?) of all places. I like that moment.

Extra note: There is no way in HELL that I'm re-proof reading this damn thing...I've done that at least ten times already. So don't gripe about words that are together or grammar screw ups. It's midnight, I'm tired, and I just want you to be happy with another chapter. Okay? Good. (passes out on desk)_

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_He could smell blood. Where was he? He didn't recognize any of his surroundings...who was bleeding? It was dark, he could barely see, but he managed to make out a figure lying on some sort of bed or...medical table? He was in the med bay, he now knew that much, but who was the person under the sheet? Slowly, he slinked out of one of the many shadows that hid the room and quietly made his way to the prone figure. If it was dead, it must've died recently, he conjectured; the blood smelled fresh._

_He risked a quick glance around just to be sure he was alone. There was no one else present; it was just him, the figure on the table, and the sleeping medical droids. Licking his dry lips in nervousness, he reached out and grasped the sheet, pulling it away slowly. He couldn't hold back a horrified gasp as the man's hideously disfigured face came into view. A bald, tattooed head, long, straight nose and then...nothing. Nothing to speak of, at least. The man's upper lip was still there, but barely, and he didn't see any teeth where the man's mouth should have been. The figure's entire lower jaw was gone; it looked as if it had been sliced cleanly away..._

_With a guttural yell, the figure shot up off the bed and grabbed him by the neck with surprising strength._

"_Why?"_

_It took him a moment to realize that the man had actually spoken, though his voice sounded mechanized._

"_I didn't know..." the man continued._

"_Wha...what are you talking about?"_

"_How could I have known?" _

_Suddenly, it hit him with such force he would have been brought to his knees had he not been held up by the man's chokehold. "Malak..."_

"_It was your fault," Malak growled, tightening his grip on his captive's throat. "You knew Kaylo was there, didn't you?" _

"_I don't – agh – know what you're talking about."_

"_Don't play with me, Revan!"_

_At that moment he glanced behind Malak and somehow saw his reflection in a mirror; it was him, but it was not. His skin was ashen, his eyes a pale green color, his scar seemingly darkened..._

"_No..." he whispered._

"NO!" Vincent shot up with shout, smacking his head on the 'ceiling' right above him and nearly knocking himself out. The force of the blow had sent him to the floor in a tangle of sheets; he tasted a mix of sweat and blood in his mouth and spit it out in disgust. A black fog encircled the edges of his vision and his lids felt heavy.

"Ugnnh...I'm not...like him..." he muttered before letting his head loll back onto the cold metal grating of the floor.

"Holy...someone get Bastila! Her lover boy's cold cocked himself," Canderous yelled.

"Not...me..."

"Damn, you're tougher than I thought. You've given yourself one hell of a gash there."

"Revan...am not...no...he is...me..." Vincent continued to mumble, much to the confusion of the Mandalorian.

"Revan is you? What are you talking about?" Bastila walked in and Canderous consulted her, as much as he would have preferred not speaking to her at all. "Maybe you can figure this out, Princess. He's muttering about being Revan..."

He did not expect his information to have the effect that it did. Her eyes went wide and she lost all color in her face, a small groan escaping from her lips. She knelt beside Vincent's barely lucid figure and cradled his head gently, sending a wave of Force healing over him and quieting his rambling. His eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp, finally succumbing to the veil of darkness that had been threatening to overtake him.

"Why's it such a big deal if he's talking about Revan?" the Mandalorian mercenary asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"He's been having these visions, Revan's memories, and I don't know if that's dangerous or not. But if he starts thinking he _is_ Revan, then we could have a problem," Bastila explained.

Canderous nodded and exited, retreating back to the garage to work on something, leaving Bastila alone with Vincent's unconscious form. How long she sat there, she didn't know, nor did she care. As the minutes crawled by, a wave of guilt washed over her and she leaned down to kiss his forehead tenderly, his head still cradled in her lap.

"I'm so sorry..." she whispered.

"For...what?" he asked groggily, somehow alert.

"For everything. I never would have imagined it would've turned out like this."

"Not your fault," he responded sincerely. He smiled but closed his eyes again, the memory of his strange dream filling his mind. It made absolutely no sense. He had seen his reflection in that mirror, his image a manifestation of someone he wasn't. The picture of his face was forever burned into his mind's eye; the pale skin, the sickly emerald color of his eyes, the shadow that hung on his features...

A small amount of time elapsed before he felt her hands on his skin once again.

"Vincent?"

"Hmm?" He opened his eyes and looked into hers questioningly.

"Canderous said you were muttering something about Revan. What happened this time?"

He didn't respond immediately. Vincent let his senses take in everything around him. The metal grating beneath him was cold and unforgiving, a stark contrast with the warmth and comfort that Bastila provided. He could feel the gentle pressure of her fingers through his shirt, her hands now resting on his chest, this time warmer than his own flesh. Exhaling heavily, he relayed his dream to her as best as he could, leaving out nothing. He trusted her implicitly and he knew that she would take him seriously, something he wasn't sure he could honestly say for himself.

"That _is_ strange. I don't understand why you would see yourself like that. You obviously aren't on the path to the Dark side, so I can only assume that your reflection was meant to by symbolic," she said once he was finished.

"But Malak called me Revan. And when I looked at my reflection...I feel like I've seen it before. It's familiar."

"I don't know what to tell you, Vincent. I'm sorry I can't be of more help," Bastila apologized.

"No, you've helped already. I'm gonna go get cleaned up," he said sitting upright and turning to face her. "Okay?"

She nodded mutely, too preoccupied with her own thoughts to really pay attention to what he was saying. He went searching for the refresher and Bastila found herself alone. Her mind was racing. Was it possible he could figure it out? Did he already know, and just wasn't telling them? She exhaled heavily, burying her face in her hands. She wished that she could be honest with him. Bastila hated lying to him like that every time he questioned his dreams and visions, giving him false answers and misleading him. She had no choice, however, as the Council had overwhelmingly voted against telling Vincent what was really going on, why he was really having nightmares.

She felt for him, how hard it must be to not sleep, to know that every time you closed your eyes you would see another horrible vision. Bastila knew that he kept most of it to himself, not telling her many of the visions that he had. She knew that his anger and confusion was building and that he was keeping it bottled inside so as not to worry the others...or her. Every time she reached out to him through their bond, she felt turmoil, something that troubled her deeply. One of these days, he was going to snap, and it wasn't going to be pretty.

If Vincent could have heard her thoughts at that moment, he wouldn't have been able agree with her more; but as it was, he had purposefully dampened his end of the bond. He didn't need her on his back about controlling his emotions. He closed his eyes as the hot water washed over his tired body, letting him know where every cut and scrape was. He had enough scars already; he didn't need more. Vincent absently rubbed a larger one on his ribcage and tried to clear his mind of the tempestuous storm that was raging inside, but to no avail.

Vigorously, he scrubbed down every inch of his skin, as if that would rid him of these new memories that plagued his mind. Why had Malak called him Revan? And what about his reflection? He wasn't going to fall to the Dark side...was he? Vincent suddenly wished that he could go back to Dantooine, just for a few days. Maybe _then_, he could get some sleep. As many problems as the peaceful planet had been riddled with, it was still a place of rest and tranquility like none he had ever experienced. And the Masters were there, people who might actually have answers to his questions.

Vincent sighed. He knew he shouldn't be thinking like that; Bastila was doing everything she could for him. But for some reason, he still felt like she wasn't telling him something, like there was something she was afraid to let him know. It bothered him, feeling like that. He stepped out of the shower and haphazardly dried himself off, giving his reflection in the bathroom mirror a cursory inspection.

He hadn't changed any, thank the Force, though he did look worn and haggard. Dark circles were beginning to form under his eyes, which were quite bloodshot at the moment, and his mouth seemed to be in a residual frown.

"Being a hero wears you down, doesn't it?" It was Carth.

"Some hero I am. Afraid of the dark..." Vincent snorted ruefully. "I can't even face my own demons, so what makes you think I can defeat everyone else's?"

"Is this going to go in a book or something?"

"Pardon my need for melodrama," he responded. "But seriously, I can't even sleep now. It's easier to just stay awake and not have to worry about what new nightmare will present itself next."

"I heard that you smacked yourself pretty good earlier," Carth commented.

"Yeah, the combination of being tall and sleeping in a midget sized bunk equals lots of pain. Don't ever sit up too fast. You might decapitate yourself," Vincent joked.

"I don't plan on dying any time soon, thank you."

Vincent snorted again and smiled. "Not planning on getting out of the ship, you mean?"

"True." Carth waived a hand. "Eh, you know I'm here if you need me, so a guilt trip won't work. All you gotta do is say the word," the Republic officer stated.

"I know," Vincent said with gratitude. "I was planning on asking you to come with me on Korriban, maybe with Jolee."

"Why Korriban?"

"Because I have the feeling I'm going to need you two to keep me from 'falling' as the Jedi like to say."

"You wouldn't go to the Dark side. You'd be the last person I'd see that happening to," Carth said seriously.

Vincent's smile turned cynical. "How many times have you heard that statement before listening to a story about some great Sith Lord?"

Carth looked at him for a long moment before nodding. "I'll help any way I can. As much as I'd like to talk about this more, I need to make sure we're not about to crash on Manaan," he said, exiting the refresher and leaving the Jedi to himself.

Vincent didn't mind, preferring to be alone at the moment anyway. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that he was isolating himself more and more from the people who really cared about him, but he felt helpless to do anything about it. He already felt guilty enough for drawing Mission into this mess, and Zaalbar as well since the Wookie had sworn a life debt to him. He was pretty sure Bastila didn't know what lay ahead when she first met him, and neither did Carth, nor Canderous for that matter. Juhani and Jolee had both asked to go with him, HK had practically begged, and T3-M4 had been a means to an end that happened to have more usefulness than he had anticipated.

Vincent smiled as he thought of the little droid; though they had never spent much time together, he rather liked T3. The droid had a sense of pride, and had immediately tried to impress Vincent when they had brought HK on board, apparently feeling that his master was trying to replace him with the combat model. Vincent had assured him he wasn't, and though T3 was skeptical at first, he accepted that HK was needed, and that his master still found him a valuable asset.

"Ah, T3 is something else," he muttered to himself, and was not prepared to hear inquisitive beeps behind him. Turning, he found that the little droid was staring questioningly up at him, if that was even possible.

"Oh, hey. I didn't see you back there."

T3 gave a disappointed "Wooo" and hung his head.

"That's not your fault, T3. I just didn't expect you to be in the refresher." Vincent paused, then, "Why _are_ you in here?"

A series of beeps answered his question in an almost irritable manner.

"Okay, sorry. How's the **_Ebon Hawk_** then?"

Excited beeps met his inquiry and T3 perked up some.

"Really? Well that's good." Vincent now began to shave, and had to look at T3's reflection in the mirror. "HK hasn't been giving you any trouble has he?"

The little droid gave a negatory response that consisted of "Beep frotz", or at least, that's what it sounded like to Vincent. He was a bit nonplussed at why the droid would make a noise like "frotz" but he didn't dare question T3 about it; The droid was..."sensitive" to say the least.

"Well that's good. I know you two don't really get along that great."

T3 made an angry "Waaaow" indicating that he fully agreed. He then beeped something about having to continue his rounds on the ship and parted with a final "oooo".

Vincent washed his face and patted it dry with a towel, smiling to himself. T3 was definitely a piece of work. He suddenly remembered that he had gone to the refresher that required him to walk through or by the main hold to get back to his bunk and he cursed himself for making such a stupid mistake. Frowning, he grabbed a bath robe and slid it over his shoulders, tying it off in the front. Trudging slowly through the ship, he made his way to the crew quarters.

Once inside the room that he shared with two others, he closed and locked the door insuring that no one would bother him for at least a few minutes. Removing the robe from his frame, Vincent tossed the damp cloth aside, opened the locker that bore his name and began to rifle through his clothing, a pair of black pants and a grey, sleeveless shirt catching his eye. Donning the knee length, skin tight underwear that he always wore, he pulled the loose black cargo pants on and stretched the form hugging grey shirt over his torso, tucking it into his pants. He grabbed his boots and laced them up, completing his outfit with a black jacket that reached just below his waist and fit him perfectly.

Vincent clipped his lightsaber to his belt and re-emerged in the main hold.

"You're not wearing armor?" Bastila questioned.

He shook his head. "It's neutral planet, remember?"

"True, but will the Sith just ignore you? I mean, you _do_ have a nasty habit of drawing attention," she responded.

"What can I say? I'm just so damn attractive," Vincent joked with a lopsided grin.

Bastila rolled her eyes, but her response, if she had any, was cut short by Carth's voice yelling from the cockpit.

"We've docked!"

"Good," Vincent mumbled. "Hey, Jolee! You wanna come with us?"

"Yeah, yeah! Hold your horses..." the older Jedi yelled back. Vincent and Bastila distinctly heard him mutter something about "young kids these days."

Vincent turned to the woman who seemed to stir within him the most interesting myriad of feelings. "Bastila, am I a young kid?"

"Hmm..." she said thoughtfully, playing along with him. "I don't know. You're older than me...but Jolee's at least three times older than you..."

"Please tell me I'm not like an older brother to you..." he trailed half-seriously.

"Oh God no," Bastila responded. "Definitely not."

"So...what am I then?" Vincent asked, hoping the question sounded innocent.

"Something else..." she answered cryptically, focusing her attention on Jolee. Vincent frowned, his playful mood gone. She had a strange way of killing his joy...

"Are we going or not?" the old Jedi asked impatiently.

Vincent hit the button to lower the **_Ebon Hawk_**'s exit ramp, following silently after Jolee and Bastila. Two raised voices caught his interest, and moved in front of his companions to motion for them to stop. Leaning against the cool metal wall, Vincent listened.

"You Republic people are so pathetic, sitting around groveling at the table scraps the galactic senators deign to give you. It makes me sick."

"The senators work for the good of the whole galaxy, not for individual gain!"

"Don't make me laugh, you gutless simp! It's the destiny of weak-minded fools like you to be ruled over by the strong, like we Sith!"

"I'm warning you! Don't push me, or you'll get just what you're asking for!"

"Try it. Just _try_ it. I'd love to see you throw the first punch. And with all the cameras around the Selkath would be all over you inside of 30 seconds. You break their laws; you pay the price, Republic scum." The man's voice filled with haughtiness. "But I can see that you're not man enough to back up your words anyway. If you ever feel like relieving yourself of your worthless existence, feel free to come by our enclave here. We have many, many ways to fulfill your wish."

Vincent rounded the corner as the Sith soldier finished his tirade and stalked off to harass someone else.

"Yeah, what do you—?" a Republic soldier snapped at them. "Oh, I apologize Master Jedi; I should not have been so rude."

Vincent ignored the man's boorish greeting; a conversation with the Sith could make anyone loose their courteousness. "I see the Sith are here as well," he pointed out.

The Republic soldier frowned. "Yeah...Manaan's a neutral planet, so we're forced to put up with them. The Selkath seem to think that if they don't show favoritism to either side, then they'll have amnesty in this war."

Vincent snorted. "Are they blind? The Sith will conquer and enslave them just like every other planet if they win the war. Evil doesn't listen to reason."

"Nobody said the Selkath were political geniuses," the man responded shrugging.

"Why didn't you just deck him?"

The soldier smiled ruefully. "The Selkath have imposed strict neutrality laws. Anyone who breaks them is punished harshly, and for the Republic, it could mean severe kolto restrictions. It could cost us the war to break a law."

"Ah," Vincent said. "Right then. Tell me what I need to know about this place," he continued, waving his hand in a small arc to indicate the docking bay they were standing in.

"It's big; real big. Actually, it's pretty much the only real city on the entire world. The only place for us air-breathers anyway," the soldier said. "Manaan is a water world—which you may have noticed on your way down to land here—inhabited natively by a species of fish-people called the Selkath. They built this city to cater to us off-worlders and as a base of operations to export kolto, which is the only real thing they have to trade here."

"And I'm correct in saying the Republic, _and_ the Sith stay here?"

"Yes. Though, as I'm sure you saw, it's not entirely peaceable. Is there anything else you require Master Jedi?"

"No, I think I'm good. Thank you," Vincent replied.

"You're welcome, Master Jedi. If you have any other questions you should probably see Roland Wann, he's the Republic diplomat here. He's by the Republic enclave near the visitor residences. If you don't know where that is, go north from here - then south past the port official and the first courtyard, east into the second courtyard - then north - then east again. You got that?"

Vincent paused for a moment, memorizing the Republic soldier's directions. "Yep. Thanks again."

"You have a pleasant stay Master Jedi."

"I highly doubt the probability of that," Vincent muttered to himself as they walked away.

(Excuse me, sir? I was just wondering...might you have any exotic animals that I could take off of your hands,) a friendly looking Selkath merchant inquired as the trio of Jedi passed by.

(Uh...) An idea struck him. (Well, I've got some gizka I'd like to get rid of...)

The Selkath looked suspicious. (Gizka? Are those the small, biped creatures? We had a shipment of those once, and they reproduced at an alarming rate. I think not.)

Vincent was crestfallen. (Please? I'll give you a hundred credits if you take them off of my hands.)

(Well...) the Selkath paused for a moment, mulling it over. (I suppose we could use all kinds of creatures.) He sighed. (I'll have someone come by your ship and pick up the gizka.)

(I appreciate it. The ship is the **_Ebon Hawk_**, by the way.)

The Selkath nodded and entered something into a data pad. (Come back if you happen upon any other creatures, human.)

As the Jedi continued along, Jolee poked Vincent in the arm. "You spoke perfectly fluent Selkath, you realize that?"

Vincent blinked a few times before responding. "I know a lot of alien languages. They come easily to me."

"That's a rare gift, my young friend. Use it wisely," the older man cautioned.

Vincent didn't answer. They had exited the large corridor that led from the docks to the main sections of Ahto City, and all three of them had stopped walking. He was staring transfixed at Manaan's blue sun reflecting a beautiful rainbow of colors upon the water, the waves lapping softly against the outer hull of the city's structure.

"Incredible," he murmured, walking to the wall and looking down at the serenely blue water. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, inhaling the refreshingly salty air and feeling the gentle breeze on his face. Vincent stayed like that for a few minutes before his eyes snapped open and he got a sheepish look on his face. "Sorry," he said rubbing the back of his neck in the way that Bastila found so adorable. "We should keep moving."

"It surprises me that you're not distracted by every pretty young girl that walks by," Jolee said irritably.

Vincent rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry that I like to appreciate the natural beauty of a planet." He neglected to mention that he had Bastila to stare at most any time he liked.

Within thirty seconds of walking, they found the Selkath port official who briefed them on the laws of Manaan and charged them 100 credits. As Vincent stepped through the doors that led to the main sections of Ahto City, he was struck by the enormity of it all.

The place was huge. A newcomer to the city was sure to get lost many times before remembering where everything was. Thankfully, Vincent had a very good memory, and he easily recalled the directions to the Republic base. As they drew closer to the Enclave, Vincent noticed an alarming number of mercenaries conversing with Republic officials. He made a mental note to look into it at a later time.

The metallic doors of the Enclave slid open with a low whoosh to reveal Republic soldiers milling about in various states of activity. A single man was standing behind a desk surveying it all with a slightly bored gaze. He was a black man, older, and what little hair he had left on his head was turning a grayish white color. A stern expression was visible on his face, his mouth drawn into a thin line.

"Are you Roland Wann?" Vincent asked confidently.

"Yes. Yes I am. How can I help you?" the man replied and a clipped tone. He obviously wasn't in the mood for this.

"I was wondering why there are all the mercenaries about," Vincent said, gauging Roland's reaction to his inquiry.

The man's jaw tightened on a barely perceptible level and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And just who might you be?"

"My name," the Jedi began, "is Vincent. I'm a friend of the Republic. Or as much of a friend as you're going to get. I'm on a mission from the Jedi Council." Vincent crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I'm looking for something. An ancient map that's probably on Manaan's surface. Know anything about it?"

"An ancient map? I couldn't tell you much about that."

The man was lying, but he was good at it.

"You say you're a friend of the Republic, Jedi? If you help me with something, then I might be able to answer your questions," Roland finished.

"What do you need help with?" Vincent asked guardedly.

"One of our automated droids went down nearly a day ago. We've lost contact with it over for over twelve hours, and we have reason to believe that the Sith got to it. It has valuable data on the kolto harvest that would be devastating if it fell into the hands of the Sith."

"And let me guess, you want me to get the droid back for you?"

"Precisely. If you do that for me, I can try and find information about this map you seek," Roland answered.

"What about the mercenaries?"

"In due time. Do you agree to help the Republic?"

Vincent stared hard at Roland Wann for a long time. This man was slippery, a practiced liar. Vincent had no way of knowing the extent of this man's duplicity. Finally, and with some reluctance, he agreed.

"Fine. I'll help you."

"Good, good. Now, there are three options for getting you into the Sith base. You can either attempt to interrogate a prisoner we found, decrypt a pass card, or we can attempt to use a shuttle to insert you directly into the base." Roland paused. "Which would you prefer?"

Vincent brought his hand to his mouth, one finger raised and resting against his cheek, the others curled and covering his lips, his thumb underneath his chin. Closing his eyes, he reached out to Bastila through their bond.

"_What do you think I should do?"_

"_I am not here to walk you through things like a child,"_ she responded.

"_Gee thanks. I know exactly what to do now."_

"_I'm not your mother!"_ Bastila retorted. _"Make your own decisions."_

"_I'm not asking you to make my decisions for me. I just want your opinion. Is that so hard?"_

He saw her shift irritably out of the corner of his eyes. _"Well what would you like me to say?"_

"_I don't know! Be honest!"_

"_Fine. The shuttle's the quickest way in my opinion."_

"_See? Now I get to disagree with you."_

"_What -?"_

Vincent didn't hear the rest of her response, however, as he closed their bond for a moment.

"I'll try my hand at the prisoner."

"Good choice. Take that door, and you'll see where he is. Good luck."

Vincent nodded as he entered the room where the prisoner was being held. Walking up to the guard that was stationed in the room, he asked a couple of questions and found that this man had been captured spying, and was thought to know the code to get into the Sith Base.

"Force techniques won't work on this guy. He's been trained against it. You're just going to have to ask the right questions. The truth serum will help some, but overdose him, and his body'll shut down. Then you'll have to start over," the Republic guard said.

"Right. Let me see that panel."

Vincent surveyed his options on the computer panel in front of him. He could give the man a low dosage, a medium dosage, or a high dosage, or he could completely wipe the man's memory. Opting for the medium dosage, Vincent punched that option on the screen and turned to the prisoner, but not before dismissing the Republic guard.

"Wh – what do you want from me, Jedi? I won't tell you anything!"

Vincent gave the man a tight smile. "Don't lie. I hate liars."

The prisoner swallowed and blinked before he regained his composure. "Ha! You can't do anything to me behind this force cage!"

Vincent raised a hand and pressed it against the force field, lightning crackling from his fingertips. When his hand connected with the energy field, the lighting raced out from his hand and engulfed the cage in an incredible display of blue electricity. The prisoner screamed and cowered on the floor, fully expecting to be fried by the Jedi's attack.

"Care to reconsider?" Vincent said calmly.

"I'll listen, but it doesn't mean I'll talk!"

"We have the other man, the one you were with. If I am correct, he's quite close to giving us everything we'd need to put you in prison for the rest of your miserable life."

"Ha!" the captured man snorted. "Being imprisoned for the rest of my life would be a walk in the park compared to what the Sith would do to me!"

"Maybe we'll just send you back then. We'll tell them how helpful you were..." Vincent trailed.

"I'll never tell you anything, Jedi!" the man spat.

Vincent's eyes hardened and a cold, feral grin spread across his face. "You seem to have believed a common misconception, my friend. I am no Jedi. Not in the true sense of the word. And I would have no problem torturing you within an inch of your life to get what I need," he said in a dangerously low voice.

"Your scare tactics won't work on me! What the Sith would do to me would be far worse!"

Sighing, Vincent returned to the console and selected "memory wipe." The prisoner groaned and cradled his head in his hands, his face contorted with pain. Vincent kicked the force field, causing the man to jump and look at him in confusion.

"What do you _want_?" he moaned.

"The pass code to get into the Sith base."

"Screw you...I'm not that stupid."

Vincent checked the data pad that held all the information the Republic had gathered on this man. One particular tidbit caught his eye.

"I'm sure you'll change your mind after you see what we've done to Tela," Vincent said nonchalantly.

"WHAT? What have you done to her? If you've hurt her – " the prisoner screamed, his face red with anger.

"You, my friend, are in no position to bargain. Now, if you'll cooperate, she might be fine."

"What do you want? Just don't hurt Tela..." the prisoner groaned.

"I can make this easy for both of you. I give them the word, and they'll let you both go. You have to help me though. I can't do anything for you if you don't tell me what I need to know," Vincent said in a sincere voice, and Bastila found herself believing him for a few seconds. It was frightening the powers of persuasion he possessed.

"I...you promise to keep her safe?"

"I promise," Vincent lied with a straight face, his eyes filled with earnestness. The prisoner nodded in defeat, hanging his head. "Good. What is the pass code to get into the Sith base?"

"I...it's...I can't tell you! If they find out, you won't be able to protect me!"

Vincent's whole demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. Livid, he hurled the data pad he was holding and sprang out of the seat he had been in. Slamming his hands against the energy shield that protected the prisoner, he snarled and lightning shot from his fingertips a second time.

The prisoner's eyes widened and he looked terrified. "Please...I can't do anything..."

"You can tell me the pass code. If you do that, you have a chance," Vincent growled.

The prisoner looked at him helplessly for a few moments before he responded. "All...all right. It's...Z245698A."

Vincent returned again to the console and pressed a button on the screen. After a few seconds, the prisoner clutched feebly at his throat before collapsing to the floor, unconscious. As he exited the room, the Jedi's face was a blank slate, devoid of any emotion or expression.

"Did you get the code?" Roland Wann asked as the three Jedi appeared through the doors.

"We'll be back with your droid," Vincent replied in a short tone. Striding quickly out of the enclave he could feel Bastila's stare on his back, pressing on him like an invisible weight.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" he asked once he slowed his pace to let her catch up.

"You were quite adept at that," she said simply.

"I'm good at lying. I can persuade people to do things they normally wouldn't. Doesn't mean I use it all the time," Vincent responded with a shrug.

"I wouldn't know if you were lying anyway," Bastila said lightly, but he could tell that didn't like the idea of that, of being utterly in the dark from his true motives.

"Well you're just going to have to trust me then. I'd never lie to you unless it was to protect you."

Glancing to the right, Vincent saw that they were once again passing the cantina, which seemed perpetually packed full of mercenaries and Sith, with the odd Selkath mixed in. To his left, the ocean that covered Manaan's surface gleamed with the light from the sun above.

"Maybe we should see what's going on in the cantina. We might be able to get some information," Bastila suggested.

Fishing his data pad out of one of his numerous pockets, Vincent checked the map of Ahto City to see where he needed to go in order to find the Sith base. They were currently in Ahto West, meaning they would have to pass through West Central and East Central before finally making it to Ahto East.

"Great. We get to walk across the whole damn city."

"Oh stuff it! You two are young and in great shape. If anyone should be complaining, it should be me!" Jolee huffed.

Both Vincent and Bastila rolled their eyes in exasperation. "Well, since we're here, we might as well see what's up at the local bar," Vincent agreed.

The trio entered the bustling cantina and immediately gravitated to an empty booth. Seconds later, a harried looking woman entered and looked directly at them with an expression of hope mingled with excitement and despair.

"Looks like we've attracted some attention," Vincent muttered to his friends.

"By the Force! I know her," Jolee said in surprise.

Vincent turned to the old man. "Who is she?"

"Elora...the wife of one of my old friends. She looks upset. I'm going to go see what's wrong."

Vincent and Bastila watched as he rose to reunite with an old acquaintance. Vincent's gaze traveled around the cantina, sizing up possible sources of information. One man in particular caught his eye, but not for a good reason. The mercenary's eyes seemed to be glued to the female Jedi who was sitting next to Vincent. He felt a surge of anger and jealousy at the mercenary's shameless stare, and he involuntarily tensed. Bastila noticed this and looked at him questioningly.

"That mercenary's burning a hole into you with his greedy little eyes," Vincent growled.

Bastila glanced around and saw the man that her bond – mate was referring to.

"Ignore him," she said.

"I can't."

"And why not? It's not like he's an old boyfriend or something. You have no reason to be jealous," she said, teasing him lightly. To her great surprise, a faint blush spread across his cheeks.

"Sorry," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. Absently messing with his goatee, Vincent once again perused the cantina in hopes of seeing anyone that looked like they might know something. The only two Selkath in the room besides the bartender looked as if they were out of place. Something in the back of his mind served as the impetus for him to talk with both of them.

"I'm gonna talk to some people, see if I can find out anything. Will you be okay?" he asked.

"I can take care of myself."

He smiled. "Yes, of course. I'll be back"

Extricating himself from the booth, Vincent approached one of the Selkath. The Selkath spoke first.

(You are a friend of the Republic, are you not?) the native asked.

Vincent couldn't hide his shock. (What makes you think that?)

(Besides the fact that you haven't insulted me yet? You aren't in a Sith uniform.) Vincent simply nodded, affirming the Selkath's assumption. (My name is Nilko. If you have a moment, I'd like to ask a favor of you.)

(What kind of favor is this?)

(Nothing big. I am simply concerned for this war we are in. Our planet is neutral, but if the Sith win, it will not stay that way. My people are blinded to that fact. As of late, there has been much activity regarding the war. The Republic has been hiring mercenaries left and right. I ask that you find out why,) the Selkath explained.

(I'll ask around for you. I think I might have a source, but I have to do something first. I'll check with you when I have more information,) Vincent said. Parting with the native of Manaan, he sought out the only other Selkath that was residing in the bar.

(You look worried,) Vincent said cautiously. Some of these fish people had nasty tempers.

(My only child, Sasha, has gone missing. She is one of they many young Selkath who have disappeared recently. This troubles me greatly,) the Selkath said woefully.

(Is there anything I can do to help?)

(Forgive me, human. I have not even introduced myself. My name is Shaelas. I am a concerned parent, but I don't know who to ask about these disappearances.)

(Who's gone missing?) Vincent asked, his curiosity now piqued.

(Young Selkath, on the cusp of adulthood. I just know that the Sith have something to do with this,) Shaelas sighed heavily. (Unfortunately, I have no proof. I don't even know where they are now.) The Selkath looked at him hopefully. (But you look capable. I will pay you 500 credits for any information you might find. It's not much, but it's all I can spare.)

(I'll look into the disappearances, but keep your credits, Shaelas.)

Something caused Vincent to turn around at that moment and check the booth where he had left Bastila. White hot anger boiled within him when he saw that the mercenary who had been staring at her earlier was now sitting across from her and flirting shamelessly. Bastila's hand was slowly creeping toward her lightsaber, and she was glaring coldly at the man while quite clearly telling him to pack up and go. Clenching his fists in an effort to control his emotions, he made his way back to the booth.

"I'm not going to give you what you want, so either leave, or I'll have to forcibly remove you from my presence," he heard Bastila threaten.

"I never told you what I wanted. Can't we just -"

"Excuse me,"Vincent said, his voice low and threatening.

The mercenary looked up at him in annoyance. "And you are?"

"You'll be getting up out of that seat, or I'll be forced to remove you from it,"he said, ignoring the man's question.

"Look jackass, I don't know who you think you are but – "

"It doesn't matter who I am. The lady that you are annoying is a Jedi, and I can assure you that she is quite impervious to your so called 'charm', my friend." Vincent cocked his head to the side to look at Bastila. "Am I right?"

She looked at the mercenary and gave hima glacial smile as she spoke to Vincent. "Yes, I do believe that he doesn't measure up to the standards that you have set. Pity," she shook her head.

"See?" the male Jedi said to the mercenary. "She doesn't like you. Now go away."

"What if I don't want to?" the merc argued.

Now Bastila was angry. She stood from the booth, unclipped her double-bladed lightsaber from her belt and thrust it into the man's throat. "Do you recognize this? If I were you, I would take the opportunity to leave before I take your head off with it. The small one first, if you're very unlucky."

The man glaredsullenly at both of them but slidgrumbling out of the seat he occupied, brushing roughly past Vincent as he exited.

"And just what standards have I set?" he asked once the mercenary was gone. "And where did that last threat come from?"

One corner of Bastila's mouth turned up in a coy smile. "So far, you have been the only man who has managed to make me both want to kiss you and kill you at the same time. I don't know how you do it," she replied. "And I _do _know my anatomy, Vincent."

"Ah," he said with a smile of his own. "So uh, I'm getting the feeling that you like me."

"I never said that I didn't," she countered. "Besides, sometimes, you are irresistible in an adorable kind of way."

Vincent stared at her for a moment. "Have you been drinking while I was gone?"

"Vincent! I am trying to be nice here, and you're questioning my sobriety!" Bastila exclaimed in frustration.

"What? You've never complimented me before."

"That is not true!"

"Tell me another time then."

She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Sighing in anger mingled with defeat, she replied, "All right, you have a point. I haven't been very uplifting, and I apologize. I've been too worried that you'll fall to the Dark side to realize that you may have needed some encouragement along the way."

Vincent shrugged. "It's all right. I haven't lost any sleep over it."

"Maybe so, but I still should have seen this earlier," Bastila said. "I know that I can be...abrasive at times."

"Don't forget hard to please," he interjected.

She brought her eyes up to search his face. "And...hard to please...but I want you to know that I care for you and hold you in very high regard."

Vincent smiled affectionately and grasped one of her hands in his own. "You don't need to keep reminding me that you care," he said softly. "I know. Trust me, it's one thing I won't forget."

"Vincent..." she said uncertainly, her voice questioning. Before he could answer her, Jolee's voice knifed through Vincent's concentration and brought him back to the unforgiving reality that he still had another planet to save, not to mention the galaxy.

"If you two lovebirds would stop staring into each other's eyes for a second, you might see that we have a problem!" the old man said.

"I'm not averse to backhanding you Jolee. Just because you're an elder doesn't mean I won't resort to physically hurting you to get you to stop making ridiculous comments," Vincent said in a joking voice. Jolee huffed indignantly. "Now," the younger Jedi continued, "what is it you needed to tell me?"

"Elora is the wife of Sunry, an old war buddy of mine. According to her, he's being wrongfully imprisoned here on Manaan. Accused of murder or some such nonsense. I promised her I'd help her clear his name," Jolee explained.

Vincent groaned and rubbed his eyes. "I'm stretched very thin right now Jolee. I have to help a Selkath find his missing daughter, find out why there are a bunch of mercenaries around, get a droid back for the Republic, find another Star Map, stop Malak and save the galaxy from certain doom. I can't promise I'll work Sunry's little problem into my schedule."

"And you call yourself a Jedi..." Jolee muttered angrily.

Vincent frowned. "Look, if it means that much to you why don't _you_ check it out, hm? Ever think of that? We've got a whole ship full of people who're ready to help any of us. Get one of them to come with you if you need to."

"Don't get yourself killed while I'm gone."

"I'll try not to. Really," Vincent said in seriousness as the older Jedi walked off with Elora. Once Jolee was out of sight, Vincent turned back to Bastila. "Now where was I? Oh yes, getting the droid back, finding out why there are mercenaries around, and getting Shaelas' daughter back. I guess we should get the droid back first."

"Don't you want someone else with us?"

"Yeah...I'm thinking. I know you don't like HK, but I think he'd be useful in this situation."

Bastila's expression stated explicitly that she wasn't happy with his decision. "Why do you like that droid?"

Vincent shrugged. "I don't know. There's just..._something_ that's there. We have a weird connection. It just works. Besides," he said as he flipped on the COM link to talk to HK, "he doesn't argue with me as much as a human would. He just does what I ask."

"Was that a deliberate dig at me?" she asked in a tightly controlled tone.

"Why would it be?" he said. "Not everything I say is meant to tease you. I was just stating a fact." He pressed a button on the COM link on his wrist. "HK, you there?"

Static filled the channel for a few seconds. "**Statement:** Yes master. What is it that you require?"

"I need you to go to the Sith base here on Manaan. We're going to pay them a little visit."

"**Statement:** As you wish, master. What shall I do when I get there?"

"Wait. Go into standby. I don't want you to kill anything, understood?"

"**Statement:** Yes master. Understood. I will meet you there."

Vincent shut off the COM link and began to walk.

"Why did you tell him to meet us there?" Bastila asked.

"Because that's where we're going. No point in waiting for him to find us here, then having to go all the way over there."

Soon enough, they found themselves in Ahto East. Vincent noticed that there was a small group of Sith, seemingly waiting for something, blocking the only path into this section of the city. Frowning, he braced himself for the worst.

Sure enough, "Hey you!" rang out as he drew closer.

Taking a breath, Vincent brought his eyes level with the haughty woman who had addressed him. "Can I help you?" he asked tiredly.

"You can pay the toll! This is a Sith road."

"Nice try," he said with a tight smile. "It's a neutral planet, and I don't think that the Selkath would take very kindly to you claiming one of their roads."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Well it looks like we've caught one with a real spine this time!" she said to her group of "friends" behind her.

"He's bluffing!" a young man said smugly.

"Am I?" Vincent growled in irritation.

"Uh oh, the handsome stranger's getting hot under the collar!" another woman said mockingly.

"Come on, stranger. I dare you start this," the haughty woman goaded.

Vincent stared hard at her. Narrowing his eyes, he leaned in closer, an insolent grin forming on his face.

"No."

Walking through the crowd of Sith, he ignored the grumbling among his enemies. Vincent sighed. He was going to have to keep his temper on a very short leash while they were here on Manaan.

"Hello, HK."

"**Greeting:** Good to see you, master. Shall we enter the base now?"

"I think that would be wise."

Pausing for a moment when the Sith base came into view, Vincent mentally reviewed the password in his head. Satisfied he remembered it correctly, he confidently approached the guard at the entrance to the base. The guard looked at him with detached interest.

"Password?" he asked flatly.

"Z245698A," Vincent stated.

The guard was silent for a moment, then nodded, indicating that they could pass. Vincent walked past the guard into the base and felt a chill pass over him. This place held secrets, something sinister. No sooner had he stepped inside than things started to go wrong.

"Hey! I don't know you! How'd you get in here?" the girl at the front desk exclaimed in surprise.

"Calm down. I know the password. The guard let me in," Vincent said. No use in fabricating a story yet.

"I don't trust you! Give me one reason not to hit the alarm right now!"

Vincent sighed inwardly. He hated it when girls panicked. They just became so...irrational.

"Look, I have something I need to take care of. I don't want to hurt you, but if you keep this up, I can't promise anything. Now, how about stepping away from that alarm...I'll give you 100 credits," he said slowly.

The girl looked at him for a few seconds, debating. "Well...a hundred credits is more than they pay me here. As long as you don't kill me, I don't care what you do."

"Good girl," he said as he handed her the hundred credit chip. "You might want to leave. That way you'll be safe."

"Right." The girl exited the base quickly, never looking back.

"**Query:** Why did we not just shoot her, master? It would have been quicker."

"Because I don't like killing innocent people. Her death would have furthered no goals of mine."

"**Statement:** For once, I understand you meatbag logic. Killing her would have meant a waste of energy, as it would have served no purpose. **Query:** As for the rest of the Sith residing within these walls, how shall we deal with them?"

"You'll be happy to know, HK, that we can kill them."

"**Query: **All of them, master?"

"All of them."

"**Excited** **statement:** Wonderful."

Vincent shook his head at the droid's bloodlust while unclipping his lightsaber from his belt. Bastila did the same, and HK held his Mandalorian blaster at the ready. Going first to the desk that the receptionist had just been at, Vincent hacked the computer and downloaded the schematics for the Sith base. While he was at it, he checked some of the security cameras.

"I hate surprises. And there are some nasty ones in here," he commented as he logged out of the computer. "Looks like the room we want is through that door and to the left."

Out of habit, Vincent took the lead and stepped through the doors behind the receptionist's desk first, ready to engage any enemy that was stupid enough to present himself. Unfortunately, for HK that is, there were none. Following the map that he had downloaded, Vincent took a left turn and found himself staring at a faulty war droid that had simply been left to its own devices. Interestingly enough, it was right in front of the door that held the Republic's droid. Vincent paused for a moment, thinking.

"**Suggestion:** Master, may I recommend using the war droid as a –"

"Decoy?" he interrupted.

"**Annoyed statement:** Yes, master. That is what I was going to say before you so inconsiderately –"

"What do you think I am? Stupid?" Vincent shook his head. "What kind of tactician would I be if I couldn't spot a decoy like this? Tell me HK, were you planning on activating the droid and sending him in, thereby distracting the guards long enough for you to shoot them?"

"**Statement:** Exactly. Simple, but effective nonetheless."

"True," Vincent said while popping open a panel on the droid's back, "but I have a better idea."

The Jedi activated the droid and made sure it was working properly before glancing at HK.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked, holding up a small red ball.

"**Statement: **I would venture to guess that it is some form of explosive, master, though I cannot fully see it through your hand."

Vincent shrugged. "You're close enough. It's a thermal detonator. Our little friend here will be received with a bang."

Vincent armed the thermal detonator and placed it inside the droid, closing the panel and activating the droid's patrol mode. It ambled off toward the door, as innocent looking as ever. Hiding behind the wall, the trio listened for the sound that their gift had indeed been a huge hit.

"I thought this thing was busted!"

"The crap around here's moody at best. The thing probably just had a core overheat or a short or something."

"Yeah, you're probably right." A brief pause. "Why's it beeping though?"

"What? It's not...hey, it _is_ beeping. What the...the back panel's loose! HOLY SH –"

_**BOOM!**_

A Sith guard came flying through the corridor and slammed into the wall opposite the two Jedi, landing on the floor with a sickening crunch.

"I believe they opened it," Bastila said dryly.

Vincent grinned as his lightsaber ignited with a snap – hiss. Turning the corner, he charged into the room, much to the surprise of the still stunned Sith who hadn't been obliterated in the explosion. Three of them dropped before they knew what was happening, and the other two fired wildly with their blasters, only to have their fire turned back on them by Bastila's yellow blades. Sending a small Force wave at the last remaining guard, she spun and sliced downward, catching the Sith's left shoulder as he flew backwards. His own momentum carried him through the rest of one of her twin blades.

Vincent was already checking the Republic's droid, finishing the job that the Sith would have finished within minutes had they not stopped them.

"**Indignant exclamation:** I didn't get to kill one!"

"Oh stop whining, there'll be more," Vincent scolded, too preoccupied with cracking the droid to really pay attention to HK's petulance.

"I'm surprised you didn't blow the whole thing to hell," Bastila commented.

Vincent gave her a look of incredulity. "Are you kidding? This thing's freaking double titanium and alloy plated. I doubt a nuke could open it up. I saw that on the security cam; that's why I risked the thermal detonator."

"All I have to say is you'd better be able to get the data Roland needs from that thing."

Vincent popped out a chip into the air and caught it as it began to fall, grinning at Bastila. "You mean this?"

"Now just make sure you don't lose it."

"I think that if I stick it up there with that lightsaber you've got rammed up your ass, it shouldn't be going anywhere."

"At least it's bigger than yours."

Vincent raised an eyebrow at her retort. "I should hope so. I'd kill somebody otherwise."

"Too bad I can't ask Brynn about it. You know, to get the exact measurement in micro centimeters," she said with a shrug.

"Well, maybe you'll just have to find out for yourself," he responded.

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

He grinned. "I'd be lying if I said no."

"You are so typically male," Bastila said shaking her head.

"You wouldn't have brought it up if you weren't curious." For his efforts, he received her patented ice glare. "You're cute when you're angry."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Haven't you said that already?"

"I thought I said that you were cute when you were embarrassed." He shrugged. "I could be wrong."

"**Aggravated statement:** Master, listening to you two is sickening. I have limited knowledge of meatbag mating rituals, but if my calculations are correct, you two are long past due."

Vincent blinked at stared wide-eyed at HK, in utter shock that the droid would make such an observation.

"Um, I think that we should, ah, keep moving, don't you?"

Bastila nodded, also somewhat perplexed. "Yes..."

Exiting the room and once again continuing left, the trio found themselves face to face with another set of enemies, this time, full-fledged war droids. HK moved first, firing off a burst of shots that hit one of the war droids dead on. Spurred on by this, the war droids did some retaliation of their own, bombarding the Jedi with a never ending stream of potentially deadly plasma fire. Out of pure frustration, Vincent let loose with a bolt of Force lightning, momentarily stunning one of the droids. Cursing himself for not realizing the advantage he had with that attack earlier, he put his abilities to full use, frying the stunned droid to a heap of smoking scrap metal.

His Force powers now exhausted, Vincent was forced to help his friends the old-fashioned way. Coordinating his movements with Bastila, the two Jedi inched forward, gaining precious ground and slowly closing the gap between themselves and the war droid. Vincent flared to the side, forcing the droid to alternate between firing at Bastila or himself. This proved to be the droid's weakness, as Bastila began to hack viciously at it when she was no longer pinned by its fire. As it turned on her, Vincent did the same, never letting up his attacks until the war droid was once again firing at him.

HK landed the death blow, squeezing off a perfect shot into an exposed part of the droid's inner circuitry. The droid sparked and sputtered for a few moments before collapsing to the ground in a pile of useless scrap, much like his companion.

"Nice shot," Vincent praised the assassin droid, wiping the sweat from his eyes and flipping off his violet blade.

"**Pleased declaration:** Why thank you, master. I try."

"I don't think we'll be getting through there," Bastila interrupted, pointing a finger toward a corridor that was filled with lethal looking red steam.

"There's a pause," Vincent observed after a few seconds. "I can make it."

"Are you insane?" Bastila asked, concern showing in her beautifully icy blue-grey eyes.

"You just figured that out?" he called back as he quickly stepped into the hallway and disappeared behind a cloud of red steam. Vincent found that if he kept his pace at a reasonable jog, he stayed with the small pause that allowed the steam to recharge before erupting through the vents in the floor again. He reached the end of the corridor with relative ease, stepping into a semi-circular room with nothing more than a computer module on the wall and a few holo-screens.

Accessing the computer panel, he soon realized that he could hack into the many security cameras around the base and subject the Sith that resided in some of the rooms to various methods of painful death. Disabling a force field, Vincent logged off and stepped away from the computer, preparing himself to once again run the gauntlet of steam. Taking a deep breath and stretching his sore neck, he craned his head to one side and held it there. Suddenly, he noticed something he hadn't before. Another small panel across from the one he was at stood waiting on the wall, its purpose a mystery.

Walking over to it, Vincent turned it on.

DISABLE STEAM VENTILATION SYSTEMS?

Vincent grinned. This was turning out to be a very good day so far. Selecting yes to the console's query, he watched as the steam gave a final hiss and died, leaving a long, empty passageway before him. A long, empty passageway with one dangerous woman at the end.

"Well it took you long enough!" she yelled, her voice carrying to his ears as if she was right next to him.

"_Aww...'d you miss me?"_

"I was worried you'd gone and gotten yourself burned to death." she said in amore normalvoice as he drew closer.

He waved a hand at her. "Nah...I've been through worse. Got the scars to prove it, too. I'll have to show you sometime."

"I'll remember that," she said. "What was back there?"

He rubbed his goatee and exhaled. All of this fighting was starting to catch up to him.

"Vincent?"

He snapped out of his personal reality. "Sorry. Nothing but a computer panel and a console to shut the steam off. The computer was pretty useful though. I took out most of the Sith in the base, and I think I may have found something that will make the Sith look very, very bad."

"A conspiracy, I take it?" Bastila asked as they retraced their steps until they reached a new hallway. Vincent took another left before responding.

"Possibly. I met this Selkath who said that their kids have gone missing. I think I found where they disappeared to."

"I hope so. Do you think –" She was silenced by Vincent's hand covering her mouth. He gently pushed her back until she was pressed against the wall, and he motioned for HK to make himself scarce as well. The droid nodded and activated a near-perfect stealth field, disappearing almost entirely.

"_Vincent, what is going on!" _she exclaimed through their bond. He shook his head tersely, keeping his hand pressed firmly over her mouth, his body preventing her from getting off the wall.

Lord, he felt different without all that armor.

Forcing herself to ignore the fact that he was indeed a marvelous specimen of maleness, Bastila instead tried to focus on what it was that was causing him so much alarm. She could barely make out the sound of voices, conversing in hushed, urgent tones, though she had no hope of trying to understand what was being said. She made a frustrated sound against his hand, and he moved it slightly, placing a calloused finger over her lips. He removed it seconds later, and she immediately opened her mouth, if for no other reason than to see his reaction, as she had nothing to say. His thumb closed her lips and held them that way, his index finger gripping her jaw line lightly and the rest of his fingers curled underneath her chin.

He nudged up, forcing her to meet his gaze. She had expected to see anger, disappointment even, but she was met instead with a steady, intense gaze that had no predominant emotion save amusement. He shook his head, indicating that she should not make any noise at that point. For Bastila, the seconds seemed to drag on for hours. The only sound she could hear now was his breathing, and she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her breasts.

She suddenly realized how ridiculously close they were. She had her back to the wall, Vincent in front of her, pressing against her with a good amount of strength. One of his legs was between hers, an accident of the swiftness in which he had pinned her this way. Bastila noticed that her leg, between his as well, was pressed against his inner thigh very near his groin. His free arm was to the side of both of them, palm to the wall. His torso was pushed against hers, and she could feel every inch of his strong chest and hard stomach; she could smell the sweat that mingled with his natural scent. His breathing was rapid and shallow, his concentration fully on the task at hand. His hand was rough, calloused from years of wielding a blaster or a blade.

Bastila found that her body tingled wherever it met his, a dull fire that was becoming more than she could bear. Suddenly, she was staring into his captivatingly green orbs and trying to remember what she had just been thinking about.

"Promise you won't make any noise if I move my hand?" he whispered, his voice husky.

She shivered involuntarily, nodding in assent.

"Good girl."

His hand moved from her mouth to the wall that she was pressed against, and she found that she immediately missed the feeling of his skin against her lips. His eyes held a fire that she had never seen before, a fire that left her breathless as she gazed into his intense eyes.

"They're gone," he whispered, though he didn't move.

"Does that mean I can talk now?" she whispered back.

He nodded.

"What were you listening for?"

"I was using the Force to try and augment my hearing. See if they had anything useful to say."

"Did they?"

"Well, they did say something about the missing Selkath, though it was near the end and they were walking away."

"If they're gone, why are we still whispering?"

Vincent stared at her for a few seconds before finally seeming to realize what kind of position they were in. She gave him credit; he was cool under fire. His expression showed no signs of embarrassment or hurry to disengage himself from their predicament, and he distanced his body from hers with an almost sad reluctance.

"HK, you can come out now."

"**Statement:** As you wish, master."

"Keep your weapons ready. I have a feeling those Dark Jedi aren't far," Vincent cautioned, drawing his lightsaber and gripping it firmly. He was right. As soon as they rounded the corner of the hallway, they came in contact with two Dark Jedi and a single apprentice, all seemingly waiting for them.

"Oh don't act so surprised. You didn't suppress your Force aura, and you, my friend, have quite a powerful one," one of the Dark Jedi said smugly.

Bastila glanced at Vincent and saw that his smile was self-satisfied as well. "But let me guess, it's not as powerful as yours, right?"

The Dark Jedi continued to grin. "That would be correct."

Vincent's smile turned feral. "Then I'm sure you'd love to know that I _was_ suppressing my aura."

"Nice bluff, Jedi. There's no way you could have an aura stronger than you already do. No servant of the light is that powerful."

"Whoever said that I served the light?"

Bastila felt a staggering rush of power come from Vincent and she nearly reached out to steady herself against something solid. The Dark Jedi looked as if someone had just given him a swift kick in the crotch.

"And I'm not even mad yet," Vincent said. "I do believe that your apprentice over there is about to wet himself."

The other Dark Jedi gave the cowering apprentice a quick smack and cursed him harshly, drawing his lightsaber as he did so.

"If you're so powerful, then you shouldn't have a problem taking on all three of us," he said with a growl.

Vincent's right eyebrow rose. "You want me to go it alone?"

"Surely a mighty Jedi such as yourself could handle it."

"All right. Your death wish."

"Vincent what do you think you're doing?" Bastila exclaimed. He was being a complete fool!

"Just trust me," he said and ignited his violet blade. "Stay out of it."

"No! Have you lost your mind?"

"Bastila, get back," he ordered sternly. She could see that there would be no persuading him. Resignedly, she stepped behind him and lowered her weapon, watching the scene before her with mounting anxiety.

The three enemies simultaneously ignited their own lightsabers and dropped into combative stances, one Dark Jedi wielding both a normal blade and a short lightsaber. Directing his focus at the inexperienced apprentice, Vincent let loose with a Force whirlwind in his direction, sending him crashing against the wall. Both Dark Jedi charged at their enemy, one attacking in the front while the other acrobatically flipped over Vincent and attempted to hit him from behind.

The young man smiled. He wasn't even exerting himself yet. The Dark Jedi in front of him gave away every move with his shoulders, and the idiot that was trying to attack from behind wasn't coordinating his blows with his ally in front. The apprentice was still picking himself up off of the floor, too shaken to be of much use anyway.

_**ZAP!**_

Blocking a blow from the enemy in front of him, Vincent pushed forward and forced the Dark Jedi's crimson blade above his head. Quickly switching his attention to the enemy behind him, Vincent landed a clean kick to the man's head; as swiftly as he had done this, he rammed his lightsaber behind him, thrusting it through the Dark Jedi's exposed abdomen. Vincent was already forcing the other Dark Jedi to go on the defensive before the first dead man hit the ground.

The sizzle of cauterizing flesh was heard as Vincent sliced cleanly through his enemy in a diagonal cut from shoulder to hip, halving the man into two nearly equal pieces. Turning his attention to the cowering apprentice, Vincent switched his lightsaber off and clipped it back onto his belt.

**_THUMP!_**

"Ugnnh..." the apprentice moaned as he slid down the wall for the second time, having been thrown back roughly by Vincent's Force push.

_**SNAP!**_

Bastila cringed as the apprentices head jerked violently, his neck now at an odd angle. As she had watched Vincent fight, she had seen some of what he once was resurface; like an old habit, his old personality came back to him during battle, during the thing that was most natural to him. Though, she had noticed that simply breaking the apprentice's neck was an act of mercy, rather than torturing the Sith.

"Funny, I was expecting a lecture about how incredibly stupid that was right about now," she heard him say.

"I _should_ be giving you a lecture. That was the most idiotic thing you've done yet," she responded.

"It worked, didn't it?"

"It doesn't matter if it worked! You could've gotten yourself killed!" Bastila exclaimed.

"Taking a breath every few seconds could get you killed, but you do it anyway. Same concept," he replied shrugging.

"**Statement:** You displayed a very proficient ability to kill, master. I am proud to be of assistance to you," HK said in admiration.

"Thanks, I guess. Look, I wouldn't have done that unless I knew I could beat them. Bastila, as much as you think I'm insane and take stupid risks, I'm actually very careful. I calculate every possible angle before doing something, and choose the best possible solution that presents itself," Vincent alleged.

"I believe you," she admitted. "And that's why you scare me."


	11. Chapter 11

Hello again! Just a quick note: if you're one of the people who also has read some of my other stories, I'm giving fair warning - this is, in my humble opinion, the best of the three stories I've got going right now. I say that because I've put the most effort into this one, trying to flesh out the characters and give justice to a great game. SO, I will be concentrating on this story and this story only for a long while.

Okay, I lied AGAIN. No fluffiness...just angsty Vincent wondering why he's so screwed up in the head. If you don't get his frustration and anger at the end of the chapter, the previous sentence explains it. He's starting to lose his mind because of all of these conflicting memories - some of which are not his. And Bastila's not helping.

Slightly shorter than the last chapter by a couple of hundred words, but who's nitpicking? (Me...o.o;)

* * *

"Well crap." 

"What n – oh. That's not pleasant."

"Vibroblades. Now."

"What? Why not lightsabers?"

He looked at her for a moment. "Vibroblades work better on droids."

She shrugged, handing him a vibroblade. "If you insist."

"Come, darling. Let us slay more enemies together," he said mimicking her accent to perfection.

"I do so enjoy these outings you take me on," she shot back with a grin.

"If we're still alive after this whole thing, I'll take you on a _real _date. I promise."

Bastila's grin widened. "I'm going to hold you to that."

Vincent smiled back. "I know. Shall we?" he asked, indicating the room before them where two nasty looking assault droids laid in wait.

"I'll let you have first crack at them."

"Hah...thanks."

"Anytime," Bastila said as he entered the room in front of her. As soon as Vincent stepped through the doorway, the droids attempted to fire up their shields, failing miserably as they did so.

"And that is why being a ridiculously good hacker is worth it," Vincent called to her from across the room. He had circled behind the droids as they were trying to activate their shields.

"I might just keep you around. You're proving quite useful," she said, twirling the vibroblade in anticipation of the oncoming battle.

"Oh, you should see what else I can do with my hands. Remember that massage on Kashyyyk?"

"Yes," she admitted. "It was...relaxing."

Vincent's grin gained a mischievous air. "I can do a lot more than be 'relaxing'," he said as he sized up the distance between himself and the nearest droid. With a yell, he leapt at the machine, his vibroblade raised high above his head, the blade pointing to the floor. Bastila charged the unoccupied droid as he executed his move, sending a small wave of electricity at it as a distracting measure. She sliced diagonally, catching one of the droid's arms and breaking off a section of armor plating.

"I thought that was my move!" she heard Vincent say as he rolled out of the way of a swipe that would have sent him into an intimate meeting with the wall.

"What, disabling a droid? I've been able to do that forever!"

She blocked a barrage of blaster fire and deflected it back at the droid, scoring a few hits. Thrusting her weapon forward, she caught it in the midsection, piercing the armor and driving her blade deep into the mass of wires and circuitry, twisting and pulling upward as she did so. The assault droid fell in a two-piece heap at her feet, smoking and sparking profusely.

Bastila looked up just in time to see Vincent remove the other droid's head cleanly, slicing through the metal as if it were tissue paper. Almost too fast for her eyes to detect, he brought his blade back and made a parallel cut, slicing the droid transversally at the waist. He stood up straight and raised an eyebrow at her shocked look.

"That was fast," she commented.

He shrugged, tossing the vibroblade back to her and unclipping his lightsaber from his belt. Raising his wrist to his mouth, he spoke into the small COM device that he wore.

"HK, what's up?"

"**Statement:** I have encountered two groups of Sith and some pathetic war droids. I dispatched both with relative ease."

"Where does this hallway go?"

"**Statement:** According to the computer, it branches two ways, master. Turn to the left, and you will come upon a training annex. Turn to the right, and you will find me at the computer terminal. Further down the hallway in an isolated room are three Dark Jedi."

"Do you know where we are?"

"**Statement:** Yes, master."

"Alright then, come find us. We'll be in the hallway. I wanna check out that training annex."

"**Statement: **I will be with you shortly."

HK meant what he said. Within twenty seconds, he was at their side and ready to go.

"What do you think is in the training annex?" Bastila asked as she unclipped her own double-bladed lightsaber.

"The Selkath. I saw one on the camera, but I don't know for sure if he's the only one. I have to find out," Vincent explained as they continued down the hallway.

"And if we find the others and they don't want to come with us?" she pressed.

"I'll persuade them," he said matter-of-factly.

"You're quite confident in your abilities."

"No, I know my limitations. Persuading a bunch of kids can't be that hard. Trust me," he said with a knowing look.

The door to the training annex opened with a low whoosh to reveal a quiet, empty room. There were three doors that were visible; nothing living occupied the annex.

"Let's try that door," Vincent said pointing to the door to their right. Approaching it with lightsabers at the ready, they were both surprised to see a young Selkath lying on a table looking as if he had been tortured.

"God..." Vincent said quietly. (What did they do to you?)

The young Selkath coughed and took a shuddering breath before speaking. (They...tortured me...for seeing what the others cannot. I couldn't...fight back...too strong. Take this...) he extended his hand, clutching a small medallion tightly. (My friends will believe you if you show them this...you must get them out.)

Vincent took the medallion and inspected it, curious as to its significance.

(What is this...?)

He stopped, unable to continue. The young Selkath laid dead, his life sapped by the wounds his captors had inflicted. Silently, Vincent closed the Selkath's eyes and turned away, unable to look at the cruelty of the Sith.

"Those bastards will pay," he hissed, his voice quivering with rage. He looked at Bastila in an almost helpless fury. "A child," he pointed to the dead body, "They did this to a child!"

"We can still help the others," she said, trying to refocus him on the task at hand.

He took a couple of deep breaths and nodded, knowing she was right.

"**Statement: **Master, they were not very proficient at –"

HK was cut off by Vincent's hand in the air. "Not a good time HK."

"**Apology: **I am sorry, master. Did this native mean something to you?"

Vincent thought for a moment, not entirely sure how to answer his droid's question. "Do you remember when we talked about useless killing? Killing that furthered no goals, and for all intents a purposes, was a waste of time and energy?" he asked.

"**Assertion: **Of course, master. That was quite recently," HK seemed to be pondering his choice of words. "**Hesitant query:** Is this the same concept?"

"Yes, this is the same concept. Looking at this gives me just one more good reason to hate the Sith." Vincent sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had neglected to cut it of late, and it was growing to an almost normal length. "C'mon, we're wasting time. Let's keep exploring."

The trio exited the room in silence, returning to the main atrium of the annex.

"Down there, to the left," Vincent ordered, immediately following his own directions. This door opened with the same low whoosh to reveal a semi-comfortable furnished room, currently occupied by a small group of adolescent Selkath. One of these natives looked quite taken aback at the sight of strangers.

(Intruders! Kill them!) he shouted, drawing a blaster from his hip and preparing to fire. (Call the Masters!)

(No, wait!)another Selkath interrupted, halting the male's arm in mid-raise. (This might be a test,) she explained. (We need to take care of this ourselves.)

Vincent was mildly impressed at the young girl's leadership abilities; she must've been a natural, as the whole group seemed to agree with her almost instantaneously.

(Who are you?) she asked.

(I might ask you the same question,) he shot back. The Selkath glared at him sullenly, but answered anyway.

(My name is Sasha. Now, who are you?)

(I'm a friend, sent here by your father to get you out.)

Sasha snorted. (Get us out? We're better off in here than being controlled by the Republic. The Sith are the only ones who know how to handle this war, and we'll be on the winning side when your precious Republic falls.)

(Yet you fail to see that the Sith will enslave your planet if they win this war,) Vincent said pointedly.

(You believe the lies the Republic feeds you,) Sasha replied defiantly. (Show me proof of the Sith's deception. Then maybe I'll listen to you.)

Vincent produced the medallion from a pocket in his jacket. (Is this good enough?)

The collective group of young Selkath gasped. (How did you get that?) she said suspiciously.

(Your friend is dead on a table because of your vaunted saviors,) Vincent said, his voice laced with anger. (The Sith tortured him. He never had a chance to defend himself.)

(I...) Sasha took the medallion and studied it for a few seconds, looking back up at Vincent when she was done. (How do I know you didn't just kill him and take his medallion?) she accused.

Vincent closed his eyes for a brief moment. God, this was almost as bad as arguing with Bastila.

(If you wish to see proof, follow me,) he said, turning on his heel and walking out of the room. He knew that Sasha wouldn't be far behind. He re-entered the room that held the young Selkath's dead friend.)

(There,) Vincent said coldly. (There's your proof.)

Sasha's young eyes went wide. (I will take the others out of here. Thank you for your help, Vincent. I shall tell my father of your aid.)

Vincent watched as the Selkath filed out of their room, all in various states of shock or disbelief that they could be so utterly fooled.

"You know, somehow, you always manage to pull a good outcome out of a bad situation," Bastila observed once the Selkath were gone.

"I'm just lucky, I guess," he said dismissively.

"And now you're being humble. You never think of yourself, do you?"

"You learn not to when your life depends on the people around you -on whether or not they do their job -or making sure that you do yours," he responded. "There's one more door left, and I have a feeling that it's going to be hiding the 'Masters' that the Selkath were talking about."

"**Gleeful query:** Does this mean I'll get to engage in violence, master?"

Vincent shook his head. The droid never passed up a chance to shoot something. "Yes HK, it means you get to kill things."

The door through which they entered led them to another small, square room that was also empty. Undeterred, Vincent simply walked across the floor to the only other exit and opened that door as well. The two Selkath apprentices seemed quite surprised; the Master, however, had sensed their presence moments before.

(Master, allow us to help you rid of this nuisance,) one of the apprentices requested in a reverential tone.

"Very well," the Master replied in somewhat of a bored manner. Vincent's violet blade ignited with a snap-hiss, and he twirled it once before bringing it level to his shoulder, parallel to the ground and pointing at the Dark Jedi Master.

Bastila involuntarily shuddered; Revan had used the same pose when she had confronted him on the deck of his ship. Her memories of that time were still quite powerful, and it didn't take much to remind her of them. It didn't help that Vincent had unwittingly mimicked the Dark Lord's attack stance. She switched on her own yellow saber, keeping it in front her of in a defensive posture. She heard HK flick the safety off of his Mandalorian blaster and begin to charge a single, powerful blast. Seconds later, it burned past her ear and slammed into one of the Selkath apprentices, knocking him off of his feet. Vincent lunged at the Dark Jedi Master, trading blows and parries, both on seemingly equal ground.

The remaining Selkath had attacked Bastila with a surprising amount of strength, but was soon staring down the point of her double-bladed lightsaber. He didn't have long to wonder what his fate would be, as she plunged the plasma beam through his skull, killing him instantly. The apprentice that HK had attacked was groggily getting back to his feet, having suffered a near concussion at the force of the droid's blast. Running towards him, Bastila executed an aerial move, launching herself into the air and flipping over the stunned alien, twisting her body around as she sailed past him. Landing deftly on her feet, she cut the Selkath down from behind before he had a chance to turn and face her.

Vincent was still battling the Master, neither of the two combatants having gained any ground while she had been occupied.

**_ZAP!_**

Vincent had successfully blocked another attack and parried with one of his own, shoving the Dark Jedi's lightsaber back and striking at his unprotected side. The Master rolled away at the last second, contorting his body and making Vincent's lightsaber miss its mark. Growling in frustration, the Jedi pushed forward, never letting the Sith regain his balance or sense of stability.

_**SCREECH!**_

Purple and red clashed in a battle of strength, both men pushing equally as hard as the other.

"You...cannot – argh! – win, Jedi!" the Master spat contemptuously.

An almost psychotic gleam flashed in Vincent's eyes and his lips curled upward in a snarl. He pushed forward with all of his strength and broke the embrace that they had been locked in. Twirling, he slashed low – blocked – then high – blocked, but barely. Keeping the pressure on his opponent's crimson blade, he spun his lightsaber down and pushed to the left, forcing the Dark Jedi's arms to the right and leaving him completely open to attack. Vincent flicked his wrist upward, sending the Master's single-bladed saber spiraling into the air. He caught the weapon with ease, crossing the two plasma blades to form an X around the Dark Jedi's throat.

"You tortured that Selkath boy, didn't you?" Vincent questioned, his voice breathless from the battle.

"He questioned our methods, our ideals. He was beginning to make the other Selkath question us as well."

Vincent scowled, his eyes filled with contempt for the man before him. Suddenly, he pushed the lightsabers down and pulled them apart, watching as the Sith's lifeless body dropped like a rag doll. Bastila cringed as the Dark Jedi's head rolled to a stop at her feet.

"Don't."

She looked up quizzically. "Don't what?"

"Don't pity him."

Her eyes narrowed. "What makes you think I had any intention of feeling sorry for him?"

"You got that look that all Jedi get when they've just killed an enemy. That look of regret, that maybe you could have turned him back to the 'Light'," Vincent said with a hint of bitterness.

"And what is so wrong with that?" Bastila asked, chagrined by his cynical attitude.

"Nothing. Only the fact that distinctly classifying the two ends of the spectrum has caused more hell than it's worth. And that you only increase the hatred the so-called 'Dark Jedi' have for you by preaching your gospel to them every time you beat one." He shrugged. "But that's just my opinion."

"So you don't believe in a Light and a Dark side of the Force?" she asked, unsure of what he was getting at.

"I never said that. I just think that the two co-exist in a way that the Jedi will never acknowledge," he explained. "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Same rules apply."

Bastila was silent for a while, mulling over his words. What he said wasn't something new; many other Jedi – exiled Jedi – had preached the same message. And then there was Revan...the antithesis of what the Order believed possible. 'No man can have both Light and Dark within him,' they claimed. 'The Dark would consume him.' But not Revan. Not the savior-turned-conqueror of the Republic. He said that though he had accepted the Dark side, it was not controlling him. He let the Order look upon him to see that the evil had not corrupted him, that his appearance wasn't twisted by the taint, but the Masters were adamant in their beliefs.

"Hey, something wrong?"

Vincent's voice was soft, concerned. He had come closer and was now staring at her intently with a worried expression on his face.

"No, nothing's wrong. I was just thinking about what you said," she reassured him.

He wasn't convinced. "You can talk to me, you know that," he said, his tone sincere.

"I'm perfectly fine," she insisted.

"See, now you're lying. You can't lie to me, I know you too well for that." Bastila stared at him, and he sighed. "Fine, I won't press it." She turned to inspect the rest of the room. "But if you want to talk, I'm always open," he proffered.

A semi-uncomfortable silence filled the room as they both searched it for any valuable items, Bastila on one side of it, Vincent on the other. This continued for a solid five minutes before Vincent's "Hey!" broke the stillness.

Her head swiveled around at his exclamation and she crossed over to where he was standing. He was crouched down in front of a footlocker, staring down at a data pad intently. Bastila placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned over to see.

"What is it?"

"This could be very bad for the Sith," he said. "And that is _always_ a good thing in my book. This data pad talks about their plan to subdue Manaan when they win the war."

"That's quite bold of them to leave this lying around, don't you think?" she said suspiciously.

"Well, you have to figure that they wouldn't expect any investigations or security checks. Manaan doesn't want to offend either the Sith or the Republic, so I'm pretty sure they stay out of both sides' business." Vincent exhaled and stood slowly. "I think we've pretty much looted the place. Besides, I think Roland'll want his droid's info back. Let's get out of here."

"I couldn't agree more," Bastila said as they exited the room.

- - -­­­­

(You are under arrest!) a Selkath law official stated firmly as the two Jedi and their assassin droid re-entered Ahto City.

"Why?" Vincent asked indignantly.

(The use of violence is not permitted here in Ahto City. We monitor this base closely, and soon after you entered, numerous explosions occurred resulting in a loss of signal. We have good reason to believe you are the cause of this. You will come with me,) the Selkath said, leaving no room for argument.

Vincent made none as he was led off to the Ahto containment cells, nor did he protest as he was placed within one and left there with no explanation. He figured that there was not use in arguing with these Selkath and their narrow scope on reality. Soon enough, another Selkath came in and introduced himself as an arbiter.

(You will need representation in the High Court. I have been appointed to do this for you.)

"Can't I just represent myself?" Vincent asked wearily, not looking forward to having a fish defend him in front of a judge. The Selkath looked taken aback by this human's suggestion.

(You could do that I suppose, but I would advise against it,) he cautioned.

"Fine, but if I decide I don't like you, can I represent myself?"

(Of course. That would be entirely unfair if I denied you that right. If you'll come with me, I'll take you in front of the High Court.)

"Don't you need to question me or something?" Vincent asked pointedly.

(No. I have all of the evidence I need. Come, it is time.)

Vincent was already beginning to regret his decision to let this Selkath represent him in front of the High Court. At least he could can the alien if he got out of hand. As they entered the semi-circular room, Vincent noticed a panel of hostile-looking judges and an equally hostile-looking Sith representative.

"This is just great," he muttered. He also noticed that all of his friends had showed up and were looking quite perplexed at his situation. He couldn't blame them; Vincent was pretty sure that he didn't look too good in his current state...the handcuffs around his wrists probably didn't help much either.

"_Don't fret dear. I'll find a way out of this," _he said calmly through the bond he shared with Bastila. He watched her face for her reaction and wasn't disappointed when her eyes found his, filled with a mixture of worry and anger.

"_Vincent..."_

"_I promise I won't get us kicked off the planet, okay? Just let me handle this. It's my problem, not yours. Sit back and enjoy the show."_

(You have been called before the High Court on charges of the murders of numerous Sith, breaking and entering, and impersonating an officer.)

"What! I did not break into that base! I walked right through the front door!" Vincent exclaimed.

(Silence! If you have something to say, say it to your arbiter. He is the only one that we recognize. Unless, of course, you wish to represent yourself,) one of the judges reprimanded him.

Vincent glared sullenly at the judge but said nothing.

(What say you in the defense of your client, arbiter?)

(He does have a point: he didn't break into the Sith base. He gave the correct password and the guard let him in.)

"That was the guard's job! This man obviously stole the password from someone!" the Sith representative interrupted.

(Duly noted,) a judge stated.

The arbiter continued. (There is no solid evidence that my client was responsible for the deaths of the Sith in the base. You have no video feed to show him committing such acts. As for impersonating an officer, that is simply not true. He didn't have to impersonate an officer to get inside the base, and once within, he did not don a uniform, nor give himself a rank.)

"This is ridiculous! He goes inside, all hell breaks loose, and you're saying that he's _not_ responsible?" the Sith shouted, interrupting once again.

(If you interrupt again, I will not hesitate you have you thrown out,) a judge threatened. The Sith nodded.

"I am merely pointing out the obvious."

(Be that as it may, it is not your turn.) The judge turned back to Vincent's arbiter. (Your points are valid, arbiter, but there is not enough evidence that would acquit your client on the murder charges. It is too convenient that he entered the base minutes before the explosions and loss of power occurred.)

(Please, my client is not of sound mind!)

Vincent's head snapped up.

(I throw myself on the mercy of the court and plead that you will be lenient! He doesn't know -)

"Will you shut the hell up! I am not insane! I knew perfectly well what I was doing, thank you," Vincent said cutting the arbiter off. He then turned to the judges. "If you don't mind, I'd like to represent myself now."

(As you wish. You are dismissed, arbiter,) a judge said with a wave of his hand.

The arbiter bowed low in embarrassment. (Yes, your honor.)

The judge fixed his attention on Vincent. (The fact of your guilt still remains, human. What evidence, if any, do you have in your defense?)

"I have this data pad. It contains detailed instructions of what the Sith will do to your planet if they win this war. They lied to you, and this proves it."

All of the judges looked at each other and whispered amongst themselves before one ordered (Bring it up here.)

"This is preposterous! That is stolen property and I demand it back!" the Sith sputtered.

(It is evidence. If what he says is true, it won't matter if it is stolen or not.)

Vincent placed the data pad on the countertop in front of the judges and stepped back, allowing them all to read it and absorb the information.

(This...this is horrible! We have all been deceived by the Sith!)

(I will not stand for this!) another judge exclaimed.

(There will be much answering to do on the part of the Sith. Until we can sort all of this out, you are free to go, human. We cannot express our gratitude to you for exposing this heinous plot.)

A Selkath guard came and removed the cuffs from around Vincent's wrists and motioned for him to exit the High Court, which he did without hesitation.

"I was worried for a second there Vince," Carth said as they filed out of the building. "But then your arbiter went nuts...good thing too."

"Yeah, I'm glad he did that. I didn't like him anyway." Vincent realized that Jolee was with the group. "What's the word on Sunry?"

Jolee looked somber. "He's been accused of the murder of a Sith woman. They're saying that he shot her in the back while they were at a hotel together. Elora thinks that Sunry was having an affair with the Sith woman, but she adamantly believes that Sunry had gone there to end the affair the night that the murder occurred." He shook his head. "It's all screwed up. I don't know who to believe."

Vincent licked his lips and messed with his goatee as he pondered the best solution for their new problem.

"Alright, look. I'm going to give Roland his information back, and find out why there are so many mercenaries around here. Then I'm going to go to the cantina, tell Nilko what Roland said, and get a huge cup of caffa. I don't know what to do about Sunry yet. Anybody who wants a drink can come with me."

Jolee joined Vincent, along with Bastila. None of the others were in much of a mood to deal with the Selkath and HK needed to repair something that had malfunctioned in his targeting systems. Back down to the usual number of three, the Jedi set off to complete the many tasks that had been given to them.

When they arrived at the Republic Embassy, they found it in the same state of controlled chaos that it had been in before. Roland Wann immediately noticed their entrance and hurried over to greet Vincent.

"Have you gotten what I need?" he asked excitedly.

Vincent pulled out the chip that held all of the droid's collected information. "I think this is what you're looking for." Roland tried to grab for it but Vincent kept it well outside of his reach. "I want to know why there are all of these mercenaries all over the place, and I want to know before you get this chip. I'll have you know that I had to go to court because of this, so I think you owe me one."

"Yes, I suppose I do owe you for doing this task for me. Very well. You seem trustworthy enough, and you are a Jedi, so I guess letting you know wouldn't hurt."

"Letting me know what?" Vincent pressed.

"We have built a secret kolto harvesting plant underwater, on the surface of Manaan. Recently, all communications down there have gone haywire. No one responds to our hails, and there have been numerous accounts of odd noises that could be related to the communications failure," Roland explained. "We hired mercenaries to go down there and check it out, but so far, none of them have returned."

"You have an underwater harvesting station?"

Roland nodded. "Hrakert Station. Cutting edge technology, incredible productivity and essential to the Republic war effort. It is imperative that we solve the situation down there and fast."

"We?" Bastila interrupted.

"If you would go down there to check it out, I would be most grateful. If my memory serves me correctly, I believe I heard something about an 'ancient artifact' being discovered. Maybe it's the one you're looking for."

Vincent narrowed his eyes. Roland was dangling this opportunity in front of them on purpose. If he was wrong and the artifact wasn't what Vincent was looking for, his Jedi helpers were down in the station anyway and most likely fixing the problem. Either way, Roland gained something from all of it. Vincent's jaw tightened. He hated being used.

"That's great, but how do we get down there?" he questioned.

"I'll give you access to one of our submersibles in the hangar. It should get you down there in one piece."

Vincent turned to his friends, seeking out their advice. "What do you think?"

"Well," Jolee said slowly, "this station is helping the Republic in the war, and you know we need all the help we can get."

"Jolee's right," Bastila agreed. "It _would_ be helping the Republic. This isn't against any laws, is it?"

Roland shook his head. "Not that I know of. Unless trying to save a valuable operation is against some new Selkath law, you shouldn't have to worry about the High Court."

"Good. I wouldn't want Vincent to have to go through that again," she said with the faintest of smiles.

"Yes, I'd rather not," Vincent chimed.

"So it's settled then?" Roland asked.

"Yeah, we'll help you. We've got some other stuff to take care of before we can go down there though."

"That's fine. Just let me know when you're ready and I'll open up the hangar," Roland said.

Vincent nodded in appreciation and turned to leave, sighing heavily and rubbing his face tiredly.

"How do I get myself into all of this?" he moaned when they were out of earshot.

"If you didn't look like a helpful person, then maybe you wouldn't be asked to help all of the time," Bastila suggested.

"How do you look helpful? I don't _try_."

"It's your personality, kid. You have natural charisma, leadership skills and a knack for getting into trouble. People follow you. They believe in your abilities. It's not that you look helpful per se, but that you look _capable_," Jolee voiced. "Why do you think you still have all these people back on the **_Ebon Hawk_**? They trust you. They believe that you can give them something better than what they had before."

Vincent said nothing in reply as he took in what Jolee had said. Re-entering the cantina, he took a seat at the bar and ordered the strongest cup of caffa that the bartender had, resting his arms on the countertop and placing his head on his arms as he waited for his drink.

"Vincent, you're pushing yourself too hard," Bastila said as she sat down next to him.

"You're using my words against me," came the muffled reply.

"No, I'm just telling you the truth. When was the last time you slept?"

"I can sleep when I'm dead."

"Vincent, please."

He sighed, mumbling his reply. "Two days ago?"

"The Hrakert Station isn't going anywhere, nor is Sunry for that matter. Tell the two Selkath in here what they need to know then get some sleep," she pleaded with him. He raised his head and his tired emerald eyes met her glacier blue-grey ones. Bastila reached a hand out and placed it on his arm, letting it rest there lightly. "We have time."

His eyes clouded and he looked away. "No, we don't," he said, his voice barely audible over the din of the cantina.

"What do you mean?" Now she was confused.

Vincent looked at her guiltily, as he had done something wrong. "You don't feel it?" She shook her head, and he sighed again. "Malak. He's coming after us."

"How would he know...?" she trailed as the realization dawned on her. "The Star Maps...he knows we've found them."

Vincent nodded solemnly. "And he knows that Korriban is the only planet left for us to go. And you can't come with me on Korriban."

Bastila looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry."

The corners of his mouth turned upward into a grim smile. "Don't be. It's not your fault that Malak wants you. Or that you're so easily recognizable."

"What does that mean?"

He grinned and shrugged, her hand still on his arm. "I dunno. What do you think it means?"

"Knowing you, probably something that it shouldn't," she said.

Vincent laughed quietly and placed his head back down onto his arms. "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if the **_Endar Spire_** hadn't been attacked and Carth and I never had to try and find you?"

Bastila was silent for a moment, musing over his question. "Well, I'm sure that we would have met eventually. The ship wasn't that huge, and I believe that I had command over your particular section."

"Yeah, but I mean, we never would have gotten to know each other like this. The bond...everything would've been different."

To her surprise, she felt a twinge of fear at the possibility of not knowing him, of not having him as a comfort, a protector and a friend. She was flooded with warmth one of his large, strong hands close around hers, squeezing gently.

"I'm glad the ship got attacked and that I had to rescue you," he said with a joking smile. She rolled her eyes as she remembered the argument they had over who had rescued whom. In the end, Vincent had, through gentle persuasion and never - ceasing reminders, caused her to relent and admit that he had saved her from Brejik and his Vulkars, the swoop gang that had taken her captive after her escape pod had crashed into the under city of Taris.

"Yes, I'm quite glad you _rescued_ me."

"I liked the outfit you were in though..." She looked at him in utter horror. "I'm just kidding," he assuaged her. "It was a little too kinky for my taste. I like what you're wearing now much better."

The Selkath bartender delivered Vincent's cup of caffa; he thanked the alien and paid for the drink, leaving a noticeable tip. Inhaling the steam from the mug deeply, Vincent took a large drink and closed his eyes as he felt the hot liquid burn his throat on the way down.

"You want some?" he asked, pushing the glass toward Bastila. She picked it up and took a small sip, setting it back down with a quiet "Thank you."

"Where'd Jolee go now?" he wondered aloud as he looked around the cantina. The older Jedi was a few seats down, mercifully giving the two adults some time alone. Vincent sighed, gazing off into space as he did so. "Sometimes I think being a Jedi isn't worth it."

"I've felt that way," Bastila acknowledged. "It's always been a struggle for me to control my emotions the way the Order says we should. I've always been too quick to anger, or too quick to judge people." She smiled wistfully. "I almost miss being chided by my Master for my outbursts."

"You're still a Padawan though. Won't you go back to training after this?" Vincent said.

Bastila looked at him oddly. "And what about you? You're just going to run off? We'd both go back to training. You're a Padawan as well."

"Hmm...yes. Don't remind me. If I'm assigned to Vrook, I'll shoot myself," he said grumpily.

"Vrook can be...strict at times. But it depends on who wants to train you. You don't get assigned to a particular Master."

Vincent stared into his mug of caffa for a while. "What if no one wants to train me?" he asked softly.

What had possessed him to think _that_?

"Why do think that no one would want to train you?"

He shrugged. "Because I came _way_ too late? Because they think that I have too much of the Dark side in me? That I'm too susceptible to falling?" Vincent shook his head in disgust. "Trust me, they'll find a way."

He had finished his cup of caffa, and he now stood up to stretch languidly. "I'm going to go talk to Nilko and Shaelas okay? Be right back."

Bastila watched his retreating form with something akin to wonder. For such a tough man, he was surprisingly sensitive. She smiled as she realized that it was one of the many reasons she cared for him so deeply. Catching the bartender, she ordered another mug of caffa and settled in to wait.

(Nilko! I've found information for you my friend,) Vincent said warmly as he approached the Selkath.

(Truly?) Vincent nodded. (That is wonderful! I am curious to know what you have discovered,) Nilko answered excitedly.

(Well, according to Roland Wann, the Republic diplomat here, there's an underwater kolto harvesting station that they operate unbeknownst to anyone on Manaan. Now, the Hrakert Station as it's called stopped sending a COM signal, and they've been sending mercenaries down below to the station to see what went wrong. Apparently none of them have returned,) Vincent explained.

Nilko looked shocked. (That is indeed a find, Vincent. I thank you for being honest with me, and I promise that I will tell no one about this. If it helps the Republic, I'll turn a blind eye. Here, take these credits.) Nilko pressed a wad of credits into Vincent's hand. Before he could protest, the Selkath was speaking again. (No, I want you to have them. Please.)

Vincent nodded in assent and shared a few more words with Nilko before parting and searching out Shaelas to tell him the good news as well. Shaelas spotted Vincent first and rushed over to him in a state of elation.

(Oh Vincent, I cannot thank you enough! You have saved my daughter and countless other youths as well. I knew the Sith were behind all of this! Please, take this as a reward. It isn't much, but I want to repay in some way.)

(No, Shaelas. I won't take your money no matter what you say.)

(You truly are a good man. I only hope that your Republic can win this war, for all of our sakes.)

"I hope so too Shaelas," Vincent said under his breath as the Selkath and his daughter Sasha exited the cantina. Returning to the bar, Vincent sat down next to Jolee and took a deep breath.

"Got something on your mind, do you?" the old man questioned.

"Many things, Jolee. Too many. But I've come to a decision, and I wanted you to know about it."

Jolee raised a quizzical eyebrow and waited patiently for the younger man to continue.

"I'll be the arbiter for Sunry."

"Kid, you don't have to do that. I can take care of it," Jolee said in surprise.

"I want to do it. Something about this is nagging at me, and I know that I won't get a decent night's sleep until I figure it out," Vincent pressed.

"Well, if you feel like you need to do it, I'm not going to stop you. You're stretching yourself too thin, though. You can't keep this up," the wiser Jedi warned.

"You too, huh?" Vincent said humorously. "Bastila thinks the same thing. You might be right, but I don't have much choice. Not when the Jedi Order is hell-bent on having me save the galaxy."

"You don't have to do this alone. That's why the rest of us are here."

Vincent cracked his neck and rubbed his goatee for a while before responding. "And I'm grateful for that, I really am. But there's just - I don't know how to explain it - this _pressure_ I feel, like it's my responsibility to deal with Malak, to stop him, and it keeps pushing me to do all of this so I can get closer to him. And I'd rather do all of it myself so none of you get hurt."

"Especially Bastila?" Jolee asked, knowing what Vincent's answer would be.

"Especially Bastila," he responded.

"You care for her a lot, don't you?"

Vincent's smile was almost sad as he answered the old man's question. "Yes, I do. I would do anything for her."

"She should know," Jolee advised.

"She does know. At least, I think she does. It's not like I keep a secret. She doesn't want to do anything about it because of the fact that we're Jedi, though."

"That's a load of crap and you know it. That's what she wants you to think. Tell me, why doesn't she want to be with you?"

Vincent looked pained for a moment but spoke anyway. "Bastila seems...afraid of me," he admitted. "I can see it when she looks at me. I frighten her."

The candidness in which the young man expressed his feelings took Jolee aback. It was obviously something that bothered him a great deal, and it was a wonder he was able to hide it so well from everyone.

"Do you know why?" Vincent asked, his voice laced with dejection. Jolee couldn't tell him the truth; that would be too dangerous.

"Are you sure she's afraid of you?" he asked, hoping to deter the younger Jedi.

"Have you seen the way she looks at me sometimes?" Vincent shot back. "It's like I've done something horrible that I don't know I've done. But at the same time, she looks at me and I can tell she wants to be with me. I can tell that she feels safe with me. Then I'll do or say something, and..." he trailed, throwing his hands up in frustration. "She's just so damn confusing sometimes."

"But you're not angry with her for being afraid of you?"

"Angry? No! If it's something I did, I want to fix it. I mean, it has to be me. What else could it be? I can't be mad at her when it's not her fault," Vincent said realistically. "I don't feel anger, I just feel... upset. Lost."

"Maybe you should talk to her about it. See what her side is," Jolee suggested.

"I don't know if I can do that. I'm surprised that I'm even talking to you about it in the first place. I...it wasn't this hard with your wife, was it?"

When had he told the boy that he had a wife? Jolee figured his memory must be getting worse not to remember something as big as that.

"To tell you the truth kid, it was a lot worse. She...she went to the Dark side. I tried to turn her back, but she wouldn't listen to me. She took off...I found out later...she had been killed in a battle. It was one of the worst pains I've ever felt, being rejected by the woman I loved more than anything in the universe. To know that I would never get her back was too much to bear. It's why I went to live on Kashyyyk," Jolee confessed. "I needed to get away from people altogether. Bah, enough of my history. This is your life. You two share a bond, and that speaks volumes in itself."

"What are you two talking about over here?" Bastila asked good-naturedly as she slid into the empty seat next to Jolee. It was then that she noticed Vincent's state of melancholy. "Did I miss something?"

Jolee stood and straightened his robes, addressing Bastila as he did so. "Vincent has something he'd like to talk to you about," he said, walking away and leaving the two young Jedi alone. Bastila turned to Vincent for an answer, only to find him staring pointedly at the bar in front of him.

"What did you need to tell me?" she asked tentatively.

Something like indecision flashed in his eyes as he stood quickly, pushing away from the bar. "Nothing," he lied as he began to walk away. He wasn't ready to confront this – not yet.

"Vincent, would you please stop avoiding me?" she called after him perplexed and feeling her temper flaring. Against his better judgment, he slowed and allowed her to catch up with him.

"Really, it's nothing. I just told Jolee that I would be the arbiter for Sunry's case. Guess it made him pretty happy," he said with a shrug. It was nighttime, and the air had grown surprisingly chilly; Vincent found himself rubbing his arms to stay warm, even with his jacket on. They had wandered over to the edge of the sector and were silently watching the stars as they burned against their velvety black backdrop, casting a mirror image upon the water.

"It's even more beautiful out here at night," Bastila said in wonder. She didn't believe that something as simple as becoming Sunry's arbiter was a subject to avoid, but sheknew that if they got into an argument it would just make it worse.

Vincent couldn't help a smile. "And to think, the only reason I'm here is because of a Star Map. I've _got_ to go on more vacations."

Bastila laughed silently, hugging herself to try and conserve heat. Vincent noticed this but faltered for a moment, unsure of what to do. Hesitantly, he placed his hands on her upper arms and simply held them there while waiting for her reaction. Vincent felt her tense slightly at his touch, but she didn't pull away.

"Cold?" he asked. She nodded, a shiver wracking her body for a brief period. He stepped closer to her, keeping his hands on her arms and at least two inches of space between them. He didn't know if he could take another situation like the one in the Sith base. Being pressed up against her like that...it was almost painful.

"Why do you believe that one shouldn't classify Jedi into Light and Dark categories?" she inquired after a while.

Vincent thought carefully before responding to her curiosity. "I guess I've never liked strict guidelines or rules. I've never liked knowing that I was confined to doing certain things, that I was confined to _be_ a certain thing – like a Jedi. I hate the name. I am not a Jedi, yet simply because I carry a lightsaber and can wield the force, I'm seen by the masses as a one." He sighed resignedly. "But I suppose there is no other term for what we are, is there? No, the reason I don't like classifications is because..." he faded, searching for the right words.

"I know that there is good in me, but at the same time, I know that there's bad in there too. You've seen it...I've felt it. And it's a part of me I can't deny just because I'm supposed to serve some higher calling. To ignore my emotions...I would lose some of the power that I have. Emotions aren't the path to the Dark Side, it's how you let your emotions control you.

"I know that I'm rash, impulsive and downright suicidal sometimes, but I still get the job done. I...following Malak has no appeal to me. I want to kill the bastard, and yet such anger, such eagerness to destroy my enemy is going to corrupt me? Tell me, if you had the chance, would you kill Malak?"

"Of course I would," Bastila responded without pause. "I would be a fool not to."

"If you could go back, if Malak hadn't turned on Revan and killed him, would you have struck the final blow? Could you have killed him, Revan, the Dark Lord of the Sith? All suppositions aside, if the galaxy depended on it, could you abandon the tenants of an archaic order and do what you felt was right?"

Bastila closed her eyes – she understood now. This was the kind of logic Revan had used when he had gone off to fight in the Mandalorian wars against the wishes of the Council. Though she knew it to be erroneous, she found herself agreeing with him more and more as he spoke each word. She _wanted_ to believe him.

"Bastila?"

Her eyes opened. "I don't know, Vincent. I can't give you an honest answer to that."

They both fell silent again, each unsure what to say to the other. Bastila commenced rubbing her arms again, and one of her hands brushed against Vincent's briefly, causing him to start in surprise.

"Force! Your hands are freezing! Here..."

He began to take his jacket off but was stopped by Bastila's protests.

"Vincent, I appreciate the gesture, but you're wearing a sleeveless shirt. You'll freeze to death without that jacket."

Vincent looked put out. "Yeah...but you're cold..."

Bastila made an exasperated noise and stuck her hands inside of his jacket pockets. "There. Now my hands will be warm."

He blinked in surprise, swallowing nervously. "This looks weird, I'm sure. Maybe we should just back inside?"

"I don't want to go back into that cantina. I'd rather be cold out here, where it's peaceful." She removed her hands from his pockets and walked over to the edge of the platform and placing her elbows on the glacial metal. "I'm sick of all the noise," she said softly.

Vincent joined her, leaning his back against the metal, facing the opposite direction that she was facing. "Makes you see how people can just live out their lives without stopping to look around and appreciate the natural beauty of things."

The inflection in his voice had changed at the end of the sentence, and Bastila turned to find that he was looking at her intently.

"You still look cold," he said quietly.

"I'm afraid," she responded, shocking herself with her honesty.

He sighed. "Me too."

She looked at him in surprise.

He raised an eyebrow. "Is it _that_ shocking? I'm in the same boat you are."

"You don't seem afraid."

"I'm as scared as I've ever been. I just don't show it. If the others knew I was unsure about this..." he didn't finish, knowing she would catch his meaning. Vincent exhaled heavily, watching his breath condense into a cloud of vapor that dissipated quickly.

"This is hard for you isn't it?" Bastila asked, realizing for the first time that the lives of good people rested in his hands.

Vincent smiled grimly. "So you've finally figured out what I have to worry about every day as soon as I wake up? One wrong choice could get all of you killed. I can't let that happen. I refuse to let anything bad to happen to you." He flung his hands up in frustration, turning and placing them on the metal next to hers, staring out into the glassy black waters that undulated in gentle waves for miles upon miles.

"You know..." he turned to look at her and stopped, realizing that their faces were now very close. Bastila's porcelain skin was flushed a light shade of pink, her lips turning pale from the chill. Realizing that he was staring, Vincent continued. "Sometimes I feel like I'm lost in the middle of something like that," he said, nodding his head toward the huge ocean. She gave the waters a distracted glance, her gaze coming back to him.

She raised a hand to his face, tracing a finger along the thin scar that marred his skin.

"How did you get this?" she asked.

"I don't really remember," he said honestly. "I know I've had it for a long time, though. Since before I met Brynn, but..." Vincent frowned. "I should remember this." He looked at her, his face a clouded with frustration and confusion. "I do this a lot, not being able to remember things from before the Mandalorian Wars."

"The subconscious is known to block out certain painful memories," she suggested.

His frown continued. "I know that, but you can still remember a haze of what happened with those. This stuff, it's like it's just...missing."

Bastila had no answer for him. Once again, she experienced a feeling of helplessness; he looked so lost inside. It was killing her to keep this from him, but he just couldn't know – it was too dangerous. She wanted so badly to ease the hurt she saw in his eyes.

"Vincent, what's wrong?" she asked softly.

He lifted his gaze to meet hers. He looked unsure, as if he was debating something on the inside. Then, exhaling resignedly, he asked, his voicelow, soft, and anxious:

"Why are you afraid of me?"

Bastila felt as if someone had just taken a sledgehammer to her gut. "Wh..._what_?"

He repeated, this time more firmly. "Why are you afraid of me?"

She stared at him for a long time, searching his face for any indication of farce. She found none.

"Why do you think I'm afraid of you?" she asked finally.

His expression hardened. "You don't hide it well," he responded. "You flinch when I touch you sometimes, there's fear in your eyes when you look at me...it's there right now, staring me in the face. Why?"

Thoughts raced through her mind at a million miles per second. What was she supposed to tell him? He couldn't know the truth. So what did that leave her with? More lies? Bastila didn't think she could lie to him again. His face had softened from its previous stony countenance and was now a mask of pain, anger and sadness. He was misreading her silence.

"You don't even know?" he asked tightly, the resentment in his voice stinging her with every word.

"No," she responded. "I know why...I just don't know how to tell you."

"Force! Of all the times! My emotional state is already in jeopardy, so don't worry about hurting my feelings. Just tell me," he pleaded.

Bastila took a shaky breath and placed both of her hands on his shoulders, grasping his neck lightly. "I'm sorry," she said. "I can't..."

She watched as a muscle on the right side of his jaw twitched spasmodically and he closed his eyes, keeping them shut for a long time. Bastila felt only a small trickle of his pain through their bond before he shut it up, leaving only cold, empty space where he had once been. Vincent took a step back, breaking their contact and letting out a heavy breath. His emerald eyes were open now, and she could see fury boiling beneath the glassy orbs. Vincent blinked away the tears he swore he wouldn't let her see and turned his back to her; zipping up his jacket, he said nothing as he walked off into the raw wind of the night, his hair ruffled by its gusts every now and then.

Bastila watched him go with a sinking feeling. Though she was trying to protect him, she knew that all she was doing was pushing him away. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she rubbed it in an effort to make the pounding headache in her skull lessen, and with a silent prayer for strength, she headed off the only place where she knew Vincent would go – the **_Ebon Hawk_**.

- - -

Vincent was too tired to be angry, but too angry to be tired. He wanted to feel angry - he _did_ feel angry – but he was so exhausted, he could barely muster the effort to stay in a state of fury. Bastila wouldn't answer his question.

She wouldn't tell him the truth.

That's what it came down to. He felt betrayed in a sense, not because she wouldn't tell him, but because he knew that she _couldn't_ tell him. And he had an idea of who was behind _that_ little ultimatum. But then again, he was angry that she was afraid of him in the first place.

What had he ever done to her?

Vincent had recently claimed an empty room in the **_Ebon Hawk_** for his own, and was immensely glad that he had done so. He loved every single person on this ship like family, but he needed to be alone. Running his hands through his hair, he flopped onto his bed and gazed at the ceiling with a dead stare.

**There's something wrong with me. I could tell that from the moment Vrook laid eyes on me and gave me the worst hate-filled glare I've ever seen a Jedi muster. **

"What the hell's wrong with me?" he said aloud. The cold metal wall above him stayed silent, only increasing his foul mood. "Why can't I remember things?" Vincent sat up. "I should know what I did during the Mandalorian Wars...but I _don't_. Only bits and pieces, and they all seem so... surreal."

Unable to stay still, the young headstrong Jedi began to pace around the room, still carrying on a conversation with himself.

"I feel like I'm groping around in the dark here. Every time I think I feel the panel to turn on the lights, something kicks me away and laughs in my face. I can't take this," he whispered. "I feel like I'm losing my sanity one piece at a time. I get these fragments of Revan's memories...and they seem so familiar, so _comfortable_, like they're my own."

Vincent placed his hands against the wall and leaned his forehead against the silvery alloy, breathing deeply to keep himself steady. The memories had become worse of late, attacking him relentlessly, unmercifully. If he so much as closed his eyes, they were back, clamoring to seize his consciousness and drag him down into their hell. He was beginning to confuse this new past with his own; sometimes, he didn't think either one was real. Bastila and Jolee both knew of these visions he had, but neither knew the extent to which they plagued him. Every night, he was offered a disturbingly intimate glimpse into the life of the former Dark Lord of the Sith.

Vaguely, Vincent realized that the radio was on and that a song was playing. He froze as the words filtered through his mind.

"_He tries to sleep again, and wonders when the pain will end, the cuts they may run deeper than his cracking outer shell. He looks with tired eyes at all the people hypnotized, and wonders what will save him from his self-created hell..."_

A rap on his door brought him back from his personal reality. Turning the speaker off, Vincent felt a fresh stab of anger as he sensed that Bastila was outside of his door.

"What?" he asked harshly.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay," her timid reply came.

"No. I'm not. That good enough?"

"Look, what do you want me to say to you? That you scare me? Fine. I'm afraid of you! Your power, your skill, your passion...it's all very unsettling because it's all barely controlled. I'm afraid that at any moment, you could snap and kill us all! Is that what you wanted to hear?" Bastila yelled at him through the door. "If you wanted to, you could kill us all in our sleep, and there'd be nothing any of us could do about it!"

The door opened so suddenly that Bastila couldn't help but take a step back. Vincent's large frame engulfed the doorway; hell's fury was pale and weak compared to the rage that blazed in his eyes.

When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "I trust you with my life! Obviously I haven't lived up to your expectations, yet again." A sardonic smirk disfigured his handsome face. "Doesn't matter. I never will, will I? Sometimes I wonder why I even try." Vincent shook his head when she tried to speak. "No, I don't want to take up any more of your precious time. I have things to do, as I'm sure you do. If you need me...well, I guess you won't."

Vincent didn't brush past her; he brushed _through_ her, making damn sure that she wouldn't follow him. Exiting the **_Ebon Hawk_**, he stepped into the biting night air with one goal in mind: find the Star Map.


	12. Chapter 12

Geebus. Sorry for the wait guys, but it's been VERY hectic around my house lately. This is an update that is quite overdue, and I'd love to clean it up more, but so I won't drive you insane with waiting, here it is.

Midterms...basketball tournament...ski trip in a few days...we PARTY man! If I don't get a new chapter up in three to four days, it'll be another looong wait b/c I'll be in Steamboat, CO skiiing. I need a laptop...

* * *

Vincent was on automatic pilot, navigating the streets of Manaan by pure memory; his mind was a jumbled mess of questions and frustrations.

Why was Bastila lying to him? And just what was she lying about? He wondered what was so important that the Council would not let her tell him, no matter how much he begged or pleaded. Obviously, it had something to do with him, as his question to her had been quite personal. Vincent didn't think that "Why are you afraid of me?" qualified as a generically studied question during Jedi training. Abruptly, he realized he was in front of the Republic Enclave. Vincent debated turning back, but his pride squashed that idea as quickly as it surfaced, leaving him with two options: Enter the enclave, or stand outside in the frosty wind. He opted for choice A.

Blinking as his eyes were met with the harsh fluorescent lights of the building, Vincent was keenly aware of the thick blanket of silence that was broken only by the sound of his boots click-clacking against the metal floor. He was only marginally surprised to see Roland Wann still sitting at his desk, poring over some report from the Hrakert Station.

"Putting in overtime?"

Roland glanced up and regarded Vincent with a wary eye. "What can I help you with?" he inquired curtly.

"You owe me," Vincent stated slowly, making sure that Roland heard him clearly. The black man stopped reading, placed the report neatly on his desk, and gave his full attention to the Jedi standing before him.

"Yes, I suppose I do," he admitted with some reluctance. "What is it that you need?"

"I want to go down to Hrakert Station."

Roland looked surprised. "What? By yourself? What would you want to go down there for?"

"Well, seeing as I could probably find out why you've lost contact with the base. But the fact that you already asked me to go down there should be a good enough reason for you. I have my own personal reasons as well. And yes, alone," Vincent answered calmly.

Roland face registered a remembrance of his request at Vincent's reply. "Well, I don't see how this is repaying any debt I owe you; I asked you to do this in the first place. If anything, I'll be even deeper in your debt after this."

"True, you'll still owe me one, but you can do me a favor right now."

"And what would that be?"

"Let me be the arbiter for Sunry's case."

Roland stared at him for a good ten seconds before responding. "I still fail to see how that's doing _you_ a favor. If you get him off...I'll be racking up quite a tab with you."

"I'm doing this for a good friend of mine, so I would consider you letting me handle the trial a favor," Vincent explained.

Roland simply shrugged, baffled as to why the Jedi wanted to be Sunry's arbiter. "Sure. If anyone can prove him innocent, it'd be you."

Vincent sensed that Roland was being sincere and thanked him.

"Good luck. You've already helped us out more than any one person ever has, and I can't tell you how grateful the Republic Enclave here on Manaan is for your assistance. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for – that Star Map. Wasn't kidding when I said there was something like it down on the sea floor. Look into it whenever you go down to Hrakert Station," Roland finished.

"Am I able to see Sunry right now?" Vincent inquired.

The diplomat circled back behind his desk and checked a file on the computer, typing something for a few seconds and then regarding Vincent with a smile. "Now you can. I just told the warden down at the cell block that you're Sunry's arbiter. He'll let you in."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "He's still there?"

"It's actually not that late, maybe nine, ten o'clock. Manaan just gets dark really fast."

The Jedi shared a few more words with Roland before re-entering the harshly cold weather outside. Sure enough, when he reached the cell block, the guard let him in and the warden indicated which cell Sunry was in. The Republic war hero didn't look too good.

"You Sunry?" Vincent asked.

"Yeah. Who're you?"

"Your arbiter. I'm a friend of Jolee's and I want to help you out, so work with me on this, okay?"

Sunry's eyes lit up at the mention of Jolee's name. "So you're the guy that he was talking about. Well Vincent, pleased to meet you. I sure as hell hope you're as good as Jolee says you are."

"For the Republic's sake, so do I," Vincent muttered to himself. "So," he raised his voice for Sunry to hear, "you can start by telling me your version of what happened."

"Don't you wanna write this down or somethin'?"

Vincent shook his head. "Don't need to. Just talk."

Sunry looked doubtful but began to speak nonetheless. Vincent listened objectively; knowing next to nothing about the prisoner in the cage in front him made it impossible to know if he was an honest man, or if he was practiced liar like so many others. What he was hearing, however, he didn't like. He had been having an affair with a Sith woman, and on the day of the murder, had gone to the hotel where they always met to break off the relationship. Sunry had informed her that it was over, they had a brief argument, and then he had left. The Sith woman was found dead not too long after that.

The warden had given Vincent a data pad containing facts about the case: testimonies, alibis, murder weapon, and the victim. Vincent was surprised to see an attractive young woman's face when he pulled up the "Victim" file. Glancing at Sunry, he shuddered. He didn't even want to know why – _how_ – Sunry was even _having_ an affair at his age...with a much younger, much more attractive woman at that. He figured that the Sith woman was using him to get information and had no interest in Sunry at all. As for Sunry...

Vincent sighed. "Can you tell me why you were having an affair with this woman?"

"Why would _you_ have an affair?"

"I wouldn't," he responded. "I have too much pride for that."

"Yeah? Well some of us aren't as perfect," Sunry said with a glare. "I made a mistake."

"Understandable," Vincent mused. "But I'm still trying to comprehend how it's even possible."

"Just who the hell do you think you are? You're supposed to be my arbiter, and here you are practically condemning me before you even try to help me! And insulting me while you're at it!" Sunry exclaimed hotly.

Vincent merely stared. "Are you done?" When his charge didn't respond, he continued. "Just because I'm your arbiter doesn't mean I'm your friend. The fact of the matter is I _don't_ like you. At all. But it doesn't matter, because all that matters is that I convince the High Court you're innocent. So drop the attitude, answer my questions, and then shut up. I haven't slept in three days. I am in _no_ mood for your crap."

Sunry swallowed and nodded. "Fair enough. I've told you everything that I can, though."

"I know. I'm going to go to the hotel and interview the people I have on my list here. Don't take off while I'm gone," Vincent replied, knowing full well that Sunry couldn't go anywhere but his cage.

Silently, he asked himself why he had agreed to help Jolee get this guy free. Vincent berated himself as soon as he realized what he was thinking. Jolee was his friend, and he was doing this for him. This meant something to the older Jedi, and for some reason, Vincent felt compelled to help him out. Entering the hotel, Vincent approached the man at the front desk.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a friendly manner.

"I hope so. I'm involved in the Sunry murder case, and I'd like to ask you a few questions," Vincent said.

The man's countenance immediately darkened. "Oh. Well, I suppose I can try and answer whatever questions you might have."

"Thank you. You're..." Vincent glanced at his data pad, "Ignus, right?" The man nodded. "Alright. What happened, from your perspective, on the night of the murder?"

Ignus frowned. "Well, this Sith lady comes in and rents a room, nothing to unusual. Sunry comes in a while later, goes to the same room. He could've been a little more discreet, you know? Just for his wife's sake." Ignus shook his head. "Well, I hear a blaster shot, and then Sunry comes high-tailing it out of that room as fast as his crippled old legs could carry him."

"You heard the blaster shot before Sunry left?"

Ignus looked at him suspiciously. "Yes, _before_. I'm positive."

"Do you think that Sunry could have killed the woman? With his injuries, I mean," Vincent asked.

"Well, not with his hands, that's for sure. But if he shot her, that doesn't take much effort, does it? From point-blank range, it's kind of hard to miss," the hotel manager said with a shrug. "But nobody saw it happen, so for all I know, she could've been shooting at him, or the real murderer. Who knows? All I know is that a shot was fired, and Sunry busted out of the room as fast as he could."

"Are the other witnesses still in here?"

"Yeah," Ignus said, pointing to the rooms behind Vincent. "They're in those rooms over there. Firith Me and Gluupor. Don't know how much you'll get out of those two though."

The corner of Vincent's mouth turned upward in a tired smile that still managed to exude confidence. "I wouldn't worry too much about that."

The first witness was a human man who looked to be anywhere from his mid twenties to early thirties. He became guarded as soon as Vincent drew near.

"Who're you?" Vincent asked without much emotion.

The man looked wounded. "I'm Firith Me, the famous Pazaak player," he stated pompously.

Vincent gave him a stare that indicated he thought the man was dumber than a Coruscant granite slug. "Never heard of you. What did you see or hear during the night of the murder?"

"Nothing that you probably haven't already heard," Firith said shrugging.

"Humor me," Vincent shot back.

Firith took a breath and scratched his head. "Well, I'm sure Ignus has already told you that everybody heard a shot, and then Sunry came hauling ass out of the room." Vincent nodded. "I peeked around the corner about a minute after the shot happened, didn't see anybody else. Boy, do I remember that Sith chick he was with though."

Vincent's curiosity awoke. "What was so special about her?"

"What? Oh...uh, nothing. She was a Sith, you know? Scary...beautiful, but scary," Firith replied nervously.

"Look, I don't have time for this. So, you can either tell me what you know, or I can bash your head against that wall over there..." Vincent threatened.

"Hey man, if I'm brain dead, you can't get any info out of me, now can you?"

Vincent rubbed his temples. This schmuck had more backbone than he originally thought. "Alright, how about a hundred credits?"

Firith's eyes lit up. "You serious?"

"No, I just felt like saying that. Yes. If you tell, I'll pay you."

"Isn't that, like, illegal or something?"

Vincent was beginning to get annoyed. "Probably, but you'll be getting a hundred credits, and I'll be getting info. Win-win situation. I would suggest taking advantage of it."

"Show me," Firith ordered. Vincent produced a hundred credits from his pocket and let Firith examine the money. "Good deal." He pocketed the credits. "Well, one day, I uh, "accidentally" bumped into the Sith chick. Turns out, she ain't just a Sith – she's a _Dark Jedi_. Lightsaber and all, man."

Vincent had to admit that he wasn't expecting that. "And you're sure of this?"

"Positive. Scared the crap outta me too. Stayed clear of her after that."

Vincent thought for a moment. If she was a Dark Jedi, then there was almost no way Sunry could've killed her. Not in his physical condition. "Hey, thanks man. I'll let you go now." He added, almost as an afterthought, "Oh, hey. D'you know anything about a war medal that was found on the body?"

The Pazaak player looked blank. "War medal?" He shook his head. "Why? Do they think it's Sunry's?"

"Yeah. But if you don't know anything about it then I'll go."

Firith nodded and sat down on his bed as Vincent exited the room. According to his data pad, a Rodian named Gluupor was next. Without even knocking, the Jedi entered the room, much to the surprise of the Rodian.

(Who...who you?) he squeaked.

"Name's Vincent. You're one of the witnesses for the murder case, and I'm here to question you."

(Oh. You ask questions, Gluupor answer. Be helpful.)

"Right." Vincent blinked and looked away. This one was odd. "Okay, what did you see on the night of the murder?"

(Sith lady go in room, Sunry go in after her. Gluupor hear shot; see Sunry running down hallway out of hotel. See Sith lady dead in room. Gluupor stay in his room, not come out.)

Vincent immediately noticed the agitation in the alien's voice near the end of his testimony. Deciding to let it be for a moment, he moved on. "What do you know about a war medal found on the body?

Gluupor's already huge eyes went wider. (Gluupor knows nothing! Gluupor stay in his room whole time!)

"You _will_ tell me what you know about the war medal," Vincent said with an almost imperceptible movement of his right hand.

The Rodian's features relaxed and he nodded. (Gluupor tell you what he knows. Gluupor paid to plant medal on body, frame Sunry. Sith say not tell anyone or they kill Gluupor.)

He had heard all he needed to. "Alright Gluupor. Take it easy."

Vincent thanked Ignus again and left the hotel deep in thought, not noticing the man lurking in the shadows. Suddenly, a hand shot out and grabbed his shoulder with just enough force to halt his progress.

"What the hell!"

"Shh..." the man cautioned. "There's more to this murder than meets the eye. Check the Republic Enclave if you don't believe me."

And with that the man disappeared into the shadows once again without so much as a rustle of clothing. Vincent stood, rooted to the spot and staring at the place where the man had just been.

"That was..." he made a displeased noise and shook his head slowly before continuing to walk. **Check the Republic Enclave? Does he mean the files? I have access to them...maybe I should search their database. **

Vincent contemplated returning to the **_Ebon Hawk_**, but he really wasn't in the mood to have another showdown with the Ice Princess just yet. **Guess that leaves going back to the Republic Enclave then. Joy. **Roland was still present when Vincent came back and greeted him with a nod. The Jedi made his way to the computer room and worked quickly, trying as many ways as he could think of to get access to Sunry's files.

All turned out to be dead ends.

There was nothing on this guy. Nothing criminal at least. He was a bona fide war hero, decorated with numerous medals, respected among his peers. Absolutely nothing incrimi –

"Wait..." Vincent breathed. _Something_ was there. Something that someone didn't want anybody to see. It was a heavily encrypted file and practically invisible, like a ghost in the shell. Traces of it occasionally showed up as he was searching, but they were so minute that an everyday tech worker would have simply ignored them as programming glitches or some such thing.

"What is it that you don't want me to see?" he muttered, concentrating fully on cracking the file's encryption. It was a clever device, one that looped back on itself in a manner that gave it extra protection, but Vincent had far too much experience with hacking to let it faze him. All codes were breakable; it was just a matter of how long it took to break them. It set Vincent back nearly two full minutes before he finally disabled all of the security and protection around the file – a formidable amount of time. Whoever had hidden this thing really hadn't wanted it found.

"We'll just pop you open and –" he stopped as a video began to play. Vincent saw a hotel room, the Sith woman, Sunry...

"Oh no...please tell me..." His fear was realized as the video continued. "Damn it all to hell!"

Vincent quickly pulled the file from the computer, storing on his own data pad and erasing all traces of his hack job from the database. Walking as swiftly as his legs would carry him, he hurried back to the cell blocks to find Sunry.

"You are possibly the dumbest ass I've ever met!" Vincent yelled at Sunry through the cage's metal bars.

Sunry looked surprised, but otherwise nonplussed. "What?"

Vincent got as close to the cage as he could and whispered to his charge, "You killed her! Shot her right in the back, and it's caught on tape!"

The war hero paled faster than Vincent thought was humanly possible. "Please, you have to understand! She was a Dark Jedi! I had run out of "information" to tell her, and she was going to kill me. I had to do something!"

Vincent looked at him dubiously. "I don't believe a word of that. Luckily for you, I need to prove you innocent. The Republic could lose the war if you're found guilty; Manaan might put kolto restrictions on us." He was whispering again. "So I won't bring this up."

The Jedi stepped back and stretched, cracking his spine and neck to release all of the tension that had been building in his body. Thinking for a long moment, he turned to the Selkath that was behind the desk.

"I have all the information I need. We're going to trial. Now," he said to the warden. The Selkath nodded and said that he would inform the judges of his wish to go to court immediately.

"Hey," Sunry called out, "you sure about that?"

"Yes," Vincent replied. "If _I_ can't get you free...well, then you're screwed my friend."

"The High Court will receive you at the earliest possible time tomorrow morning,"the warden notified him.

Vincent sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he couldn't get the trial over with tonight. "Alright, thanks." He turned to Sunry. "I'll see you tomorrow morning then. Oh, and don't try and kill yourself. I would hate to have done all this work for nothing."

The headstrong young Jedi left a spluttering and frustrated Sunry behind, his destination once again: the Republic Enclave. He entered through the large metal doors and greeted Roland for the somewhere close to the fourth time tonight.

"Aren't you supposed to be working on that murder trial?" the black man asked.

Vincent shook his head. "The High Court won't take us till tomorrow morning. I came back because I want to go down to Hrakert Station now."

"I'll show you to the submersible then. It's the only transport we've got to and from the sea floor," Roland explained as he got up from his desk and they walked through the base. "We've already sent down the other one, and it hasn't come back up. It had a full team of mercenaries, and none of them have contacted us since their initial transmissions when they docked at the station."

They entered the mammoth hangar, both men regarding the large aquatic vessel bobbing gently in the water with a silent respect.

"Be careful," Roland warned, handing Vincent a card key. "This will get you back through these hangar doors, if you come back up."

Vincent took the card key with a slightly self-confident smile. "You mean when I come back up." He hopped into the waiting arms of the submersible. "See you in a few," he said before the ship closed him off from the outside world. Vincent found himself in a familiar environment, sitting in the pilot's seat of a vessel, bathed in a red glow from all of the lights, switches, dials and data screens. Pressing a button on one of the various screens, he initiated the automatic navigations system and felt the craft lurch backwards and begin it's descent to Manaan's uncharted sea floor.

- - -

Bastila threw herself roughly against her small bed, exhaling as she bounced to a halt in a tangle of sheets. Of all the questions, he had to ask that one. Bastila cursed his intuitive and discerning mind.

A soft knock on her door caused her to start.

"Who is it?" she called out as she plodded to the door.

"It's Carth," the Republic Officer's voice said through the layers of metal. "I just wanted to check and see if you were alright...you didn't come out for dinner, and we were starting to get worried."

Bastila blinked a few times in confusion. She had missed dinner? Pressing a button on the panel next to the door, she watched Carth's troubled frame appear just beyond the doorway.

"I hadn't realized I missed dinner," she admitted. "I'm not very hungry at the moment."

Carth's expression turned soft, and he placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "I know you're worried about Vincent, but the man can take care of himself. Now, if you've injured his pride or his self-esteem, it might take a while for him to come back around." He paused. "Sometimes I don't think you realize the effect that you have on him."

"You're right," she sighed. "Often times, I don't think before I speak, and with him, it seems even worse. It's like I lose all discipline over myself...I don't understand it. I don't talk right, I don't act right...hell, sometimes I don't even think properly."

Carth smiled. He remembered when it had been like that with his wife during the early stages of their romance. It was an interesting realization, finding out that you just don't function properly around the person you care for. The Republic Officer's grin widened even more at the thought of what conclusion the two would inevitably come to next. Oh, he hoped he was there to see it on both of their faces when that day came...

"Carth, please explain to me what is so incredibly amusing about this situation that requires you to stand here, grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat!" Bastila exclaimed, her frustration half-real and half-feigned.

"I was just remembering something about my wife, sorry," he apologized truthfully. No need to tell her _all _of what he was thinking. "Anyway, he'll be back soon, just wait. Vincent's not stupid enough to go out and get himself killed."

Or so they thought.

- - -

Vincent had his lightsaber off of his belt clip and in his hand as he climbed cautiously out of the submersible. If an entire team of fully-trained mercenaries hadn't even made transmission after initial contact...

He shook his head. There was no possible way they could have simply forgotten. Rule number one of _any_ militarily based operation was to always stay in contact. Regular transmissions at regular intervals, no excuses. Something must've gone wrong. Vincent only hoped it wasn't the Sith. Even before he could see anyone, Vincent sensed the presence of someone else close to him in the base. The person's life signature was fading quickly, and the Jedi knew that whoever it was, they would soon be one with the Force. He quickened his pace, letting the Force guide him to where they dying man lay.

"What in the name of..."

Vincent stood rooted to his spot on the floor. He could only assume that the man lying before him used to be a Twi'lek, but he couldn't be too sure. Chunks of the alien's flesh had been eaten away; his eyes had been ripped out, leaving only bloody and hollow sockets. His arms and legs looked as if they had been gnawed on – bite marks and missing fingers were visible.

"Can you speak?" the Jedi asked in a tightly controlled voice, walking over to the living corpse.

It managed a rasping, "Yes."

"Who did this to you?"

"Sel...kath. Insane...all of them..."

**Insane Selkath?** Vincent thought to himself. **What is going on down here?**

"How many people were with you?" he asked.

No response.

Even as he reached out with the Force, Vincent knew the man was gone. The Jedi ignited his violet lightsaber, and as he stood an eerie feeling washed over him. Keeping his weapon gripped firmly in his hand, he ventured deeper into the base at an almost agonizingly slow pace; it was hell to go at a crawl, but he refused to let himself be ambushed.

The lighting was dim, cutting visibility by at least half, and Vincent had yet to see a single living soul. The remnants of droids, broken machinery and the occasional body littered the floor, making the already slow going grind to a near halt. He had no way of knowing if any of the piles of scrap contained a booby trap or timed explosive. Briefly, he wished he had brought along at least one of his companions but quickly shoved the distracting thought out of his mind.

_**Shuffle...scratch...**_

Vincent's head snapped around in the direction of the noise, his lightsaber casting a hauntingly purple glow on the metal flooring and walls. Cautiously, he inched forward toward a door, reluctant to find out what was behind it. Pressing the "open" button on the panel, the door slid aside.

**CLANG!**

Vincent threw himself out of the way of a deadly vibroblade in a most ungraceful manner, landing roughly on his right shoulder. A fiery pain lanced through it in protest as he struggled to get to his feet and face his adversary. Vincent's gaze was met with a pair of wild, feral looking eyes and a stream of foaming saliva coming from the alien's mouth. He hadn't believed it, but the proof was standing in front of his eyes, desperately trying to kill him.

The psychotic Selkath lunged at him with a mad roar, swinging blindly. Vincent sidestepped his attack and cut him down easily, only to feel another blade slice into his Achilles tendon, causing him to drop like a dead weight. He twisted as he fell, catching his newest enemy's forearms with his plasma blade and severing them with a flick of his wrist. Cursing, he managed to pull himself up into a sitting position and scoot back to lean against the wall. Keeping his lightsaber in front of him, Vincent watched as the Selkath he had injured writhed on the floor. Shifting his gaze upwards, he eyed the other alien warily, waiting for the Selkath to make a move. As soon as the Selkath began to lunge at him, Vincent froze him in place with the Force. Vincent switched his blade off and pulled one of his blasters from its holster. Taking careful aim, he pulled the trigger once, sending a plasma bolt through the air to burn a sizzling hole directly between the alien's eyes.

Grabbing a small medi-pack from off of his belt, he removed the kolto-filled syringe and set it aside; Vincent gingerly grasped his ankle, watching as it dangled uselessly while in mid-air. He took hold of the syringe and inserted it directly into the back of his ankle, pressing down on the small plunger and making sure that the entire healing cocktail went into his body. Removing it and tossing it aside, he closed the med-pack back up, re-hooked it onto his belt, and waited.

Already, he could feel his tissues repairing themselves, knitting back together and re-attaching. Within a minute, Vincent was up on his feet again, his ankle fully functional and able to support his weight. Entering the room in which to two Selkath had come out of, he was met with a scene of carnage. Every single human scientist lay dead in a cold pool of their own blood on the floor, their bodies mangled and desecrated almost beyond recognition. For the most part, Vincent ignored this; the Mandalorian Wars had been much worse, and he had quickly grown accustomed to seeing dismembered and mutilated bodies.

Lockers lined the far wall of the room, and Vincent immediately picked his way through the bodies to get to them. He found a sonic emitter in one of the lockers and a life support pack, but nothing else. Pocketing the emitter and attaching the life support pack to the back of his belt, he continued his explorations of the base, exiting the room and heading down the hallway. Upon reaching another room, Vincent could hear the sounds of more Selkath inside. From the amount of noise and from what he could feel through the Force, he guessed there were about four of the fish people inside.

Palming a frag grenade in his free hand, he pressed the button to arm it and opened the door, tossing the grenade inside. A satisfying **BOOM!** met his ears and he charged into the room, which was now filled with a haze of smoke. He planted a vicious roundhouse kick in one remaining Selkath's face, snapping the unsuspecting alien's neck; swinging his lightsaber in a low arc, he cut removed the other Selkath's legs to the knee. Before the fish could hit the ground, Vincent brought his blade up in a swift, diagonal slash, cleaving the Selkath in two from right hip to left shoulder.

Finding nothing else of interest in the current room, Vincent entered the adjacent one. It was a circular room, every wall was lined with lockers, and a single Enviro Suit sat in a corner. The Jedi surveyed the room carefully, noting that one of the lockers seemed to be shaking. Approaching it silently, he leaned in close to listen and heard the rapid, shallow breathing of one very scared individual.

"You plan on coming out of there?"

The man in the locker let out a frightened yell. "Who are you? No, no...never mind. It doesn't matter. Go away!"

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "If you're afraid of the Selkath, I've killed all of them in this area."

"Fishy? Fishy fishy! They'll eat us all alive, just like the others! Mm hm! That's what we'll be – fish food!"

This guy was a nut. "Okay, look. If you come out of there, I can get you to the surface safely."

"No, no, no, no! Please, just go away!"

Vincent sighed. "Alright, have it your way." If the man truly didn't want to leave that locker, he wasn't going to force him out. Turning his attention the Enviro Suit, he examined it and was pleasantly surprised to find it in perfect condition. Leaving it be for a moment, Vincent ventured back out into the base to find the airlock room he knew wouldn't be far. Sure enough, two rooms down, he found it. Returning to the Enviro Suit, he clipped his lightsaber onto his belt and proceeded to begin the long ordeal of getting himself inside the suit.

Once he was fully within the Enviro Suit he returned to the airlock room and activated the sequence to go outside on the ocean floor.

"SEQUENCE WILL FINISH IN 5...4...3...2...1...PLEASE PROCEED THROUGH AIRLOCK DOOR," the computer's mechanical voice said, filtering through his helmet.

Vincent was struck with the thought that he had never seen anything so beautiful before in his life...except for maybe the person he wasn't talking to right now. Vincent attempted to concentrate on the task at hand, but to no avail – Bastila kept returning to his mind no matter how hard he tried _not_ to think of her. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost didn't see the Firaxa shark heading straight towards him. As swiftly as his Enviro Suit would let him, Vincent pulled out the sonic emitter and blasted the shark with a wave of pure sonic energy, killing it instantly.

"That was close," he muttered. "Pay attention, idiot."

"Oh my God! Somebody else made it!"

Vincent turned to see another human in a matching Enviro Suit, shuffling towards him as fast as he could.

"I thought I was the only one!" the man exclaimed when he reached Vincent.

"Are you a mercenary?"

"Yeah. We got down here, and all we found were a bunch of psychotic Selkath. The rest of my team got...eaten..." The man visibly shuddered through the Enviro Suit.

"I'm trying to get to the Kolto Control center. We should stick together," Vincent suggested.

"I'm not waiting around any more man. I'm outta here!"

Vincent's protest died in his throat as he watched the mercenary venture out into the open waters. He hadn't made it twenty feet before a huge Firaxa shark came out of nowhere and attacked the merc relentlessly, finally grabbing the defenseless man in its jaws and carrying him off. The man's screams echoed in Vincent's head as he stepped cautiously out into the vast expanse that was Manaan's sea floor.

The agonizingly slow pace in which he had explored the base was nothing compared to what he was doing now. Not only did the Enviro Suit restrict movement, but the water he was in slowed him down even more, causing to move at an infuriatingly, insanity inducing crawl. Thus, Vincent took great pleasure in blasting each Firaxa shark as they came near; he soon spotted a door in the massive building that loomed over him.

Moving to the door as fast as his suit would allow, Vincent felt a flood of relief when his feet touched the metal grating of the building's floor. He peeled off the Enviro Suit and left itagainst the wall, unclipping his lightsaber and switching the weapon on. As soon as he stepped through the door and into the base, Vincent was ambushed by four more insane Selkath, two of which were armed with guns that looked unfamiliar to him.

Making a quick calculation, Vincent tossed an adhesive grenade at the two Selkath who were equipped with melee weapons and began to run at them. Suddenly, a deafening **BOOM! **met his ears and Vincent felt himself thrown backwards.

**THUMP!**

The Jedi slid to the floor in a daze; struggling to get back on his feet, he barely dodged another blast, feeling the shockwave as it impacted the wall behind him. Using the Force, he propelled himself toward the furthest Selkath with a gun, flipping in mid-air and bringing his lightsaber down with as much strength as he could. Turning, he threw his weapon at the only other Selkath with a firearm and armed a frag grenade while his saber flew toward the alien. Tossing the grenade at the two Selkath whom he had anchored to the ground with an adhesive grenade, Vincent called his lightsaber back to his hand dove out of the area seconds before an explosion ripped through the room.

He grunted in pain as he hit the ground; the shockwave that had sent him crashing into the wall had cracked a few ribs. Picking himself up slowly, Vincent gingerly took a few breaths. The pain was intense, but nothing he couldn't handle; he didn't want to waste healing himself with the Force and then exhaust himself later on when he really needed it. As Vincent walked through the base, he came upon a room containing a force field with two people behind it. Entering the room, he made it two steps before the humans on the other side of the energy field lost it.

"Stay back!" the man warned. "I'll depressurize the chamber!"

Vincent attempted to pacify him. "Look, I'm just trying to find a Star Map. I came here in a submersible...I can get you out."

Now it was the woman's turn. "No! You'll just let the Selkath in! Hurry Kono, depressurize it!"

Vincent watched the man, Kono, go to a panel on the wall and press a few buttons. Then:

"DEPRESSURIZATION WILL BE COMPLETE IN 60 SECONDS."

"Well damn," he muttered. Looking around, he spotted another console, similar to the panel that Kono had just been at. Going over to it, he used a spike to slice into the computer's database and shut down the depressurization sequence and disable the force field. Moving quickly, he closed the distance between himself and the two humans.

"What was that for?" he asked, anger evident in his voice.

The woman answered first. "I'm sorry. We...we overreacted. We're scientists, and when the base was taken over by the Selkath..."

Kono spoke. "We saw our friends get eaten alive. It was horrible. I guess we didn't think about what we were doing – when we depressurized the room, I mean."

"Please, forgive us. I'm Sami," the black woman said, "and this is Kono Nolan. We're scientists, as we've already said, and we've been studying the Hrakert Rift. We built a kolto harvesting machine, and when we activated it, it must've awakened something."

Vincent stared at her, puzzled.

"What she means," Kono explained, "is that the machinery awoke a giant Firaxa shark, one bigger than anything ever been recorded. When it came up from the Rift, we heard this terrible screeching noise...it must've been what drove the Selkath insane. It seems to be guarding an ancient artifact that we recently discovered, and it won't let anyone pass. Sami and I have been trying to come up with a way to get rid of the shark, but we can't agree on how to do it."

"I think we should destroy the machinery. It's what brought the monster up in the first place," Sami said defiantly.

"But if we destroy the harvester, we could lose the war! Our best bet is to release this poison into the water, and use it to kill the shark," Kono shot back.

"We have no idea what effect it will have on the kolto! We've only tested it in a controlled environment."

"But we know that it kills the sharks. It may not affect the kolto at all!"

"Wait," Vincent interrupted. "I'm the one who's going to be risking my butt out there, so I'm going to make the decision."

"Here's the poison to feed into the harvester. It should do the trick," Kono said handing him a vial.

"Don't listen to him. Please, get rid of the machine. All you have to do is overload the chemicals in the canisters," Sami pleaded.

"I'll do what I think is best," Vincent said as he spotted another Enviro Suit and began to put it on.

"I hope you make the right choice," Sami said quietly. Vincent didn't respond immediately; he was too preoccupied with getting into the Enviro Suit. Once in it, however, he turned back to her.

"That all depends on how you look at it."

Vincent entered the airlock and waited for the sequence to finish before venturing out into the depths of Manaan's sea floor. As soon as he stepped outside, he spotted both the harvester and the giant Firaxa shark that Kono and Sami had spoken about. Two normal Firaxa stood in his way, but he dispatched them easily with a few shots from his sonic emitter. As he approached the harvester's control panel, both Kono and Sami's words came to his mind.

He had two choices: 1) Poison the shark and possibly contaminate the kolto supply, or 2) Destroy the machine, thereby slowing harvesting by a large amount, but appeasing the monster and guaranteeing that there would still _be_ kolto to harvest. Vincent decided that he would destroy the harvester and hope that it didn't drastically affect the Republic War effort. Accessing the menu for the canisters, he paused.

"Blowing up this hunk of metal might not be as easy as I thought," he muttered to himself. "Well, here goes nothing."

Five minutes, various curses and button combinations later, the control panel informed him that a volatile mixture of chemicals had been achieved, and that he had 15 – _only _15 – seconds to clear the area. The Jedi knew that there was no way he was going to make it far enough away in that short amount of time to avoid the blast, but he was determined to try. The seconds stretched on for an eternity, but Vincent finally heard the muffled explosion, and felt a huge shockwave sweep him off of his feet and slam him into a large outcropping of rock.

A loud hiss told him that he had severed his air intake hose, and the rapidly flashing red lights in his helmet seconded that belief. His screaming ribs reminded him that they were broken, and his breathing began to come in short gasps. Glancing back to where the giant Firaxa had been, he watched the monster swimming slowly back into his home in the rift, hopefully never to be disturbed again.

And that's when he saw it.

The Star Map, illuminated by five underwater lights, waiting patiently for its secret to be discovered. Vincent checked his air gauge and estimated that he had at most, two minutes of air left. Including the fact that his air was leaking rapidly out of his suit, that time was down to about one minute if he was lucky. Twisting his body, he planted his boots on the rock behind him and shoved off as hard as he could, holding his breath in an attempt to conserve air, though his ribcage protested mercilessly.

His aim was perfect, and he reached the Star Map in mere seconds. Grasping one of the prongs, he pulled himself down and activated it, downloading the information on his data pad as quickly as the technology would allow. Repeating his earlier procedure, Vincent planted his feet on the Star Map and shoved, rocketing back toward the outcropping of rock he had just come from. His lungs were screaming at him to take a breath, and he finally relented, gasping for air as he shambled toward the Kolto Center.

He made inside the airlock just as his air ran out, and he fumbled with the helmet before ripping it off of his head and hurling it across the room. Vincent hadn't realized it, but water had been steadily leaking into his suit, and he was soaking wet. He didn't move from his position – lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling – until Kono and Sami came running into the airlock.

"I saw it on the view screen. You did the right thing," Sami said as she kneeled next to him. Kono stood sulking in the corner, obviously not pleased with Vincent's decision. "This could cost us the war!"

Vincent coughed, a spasm of pain gripping his ribs. "You can rebuild the harvester. If I would've poisoned the kolto, who knows how long it would've lasted."

Kono nodded. "I guess you're right. At least this way, we still have kolto to harvest."

"Here," Sami said, handing Vincent a kolto syringe, "you look like you could use it."

"Mm...thanks." He grabbed the syringe and inserted it into his wrist, injecting the kolto into his bloodstream. Vincent exhaled as he felt the substance begin to try and heal his cracked ribs. He would feel like hell tomorrow, he knew that for a fact. Extricating himself from the Enviro Suit, Vincent was helped to his feet by Kono and Sami

"Now that that giant Firaxa shark's gone, the Selkath should be back to normal," Kono mused.

"I can take both of you back up to the surface," Vincent suggested.

"No, we'll stay here and try and fix up the base first," Sami said, gently rejecting his offer. "Besides, I'll bet you have one heck of a time with the High Court after this."

Vincent groaned. He had forgotten about the High Court. "Yeah, I bet you I will. We're old pals, me and the Selkath judges. Maybe they'll let me off easy," he joked weakly. "D'you know of any quicker way to get back to Hrakert Station? I refuse to get back into another Enviro Suit..."

"Yeah, there's a transport that'll get you between the two much faster. Here I'll show it to you," Kono said as he led Vincent away.

- - -

**SLAM!**

"Where the hell _is _he?" the woman muttered to herself as she smacked a hand against the wall next to her.

"Bastila?"

The female Jedi turned at the sound of her name.

"It's two in the morning...why are you still up?" Mission asked, the last vestiges of sleep still clinging to her speech and movements.

"Because Vincent is still up. He's off _somewhere_ doing who knows what," she responded bitterly.

"So if one of you's up, the other can't fall asleep?" the young Twi'lek asked curiously.

"No." Bastila sighed. "I'm still up half because _he's_ up and in a state of emotional turmoil and half because I'm in my _own _state of emotional turmoil."

"You care about him a lot, don't you?"

Bastila was taken aback by the innocence in her voice. It was an honest question without any ulterior motives, something the Jedi was not used to. "I...I worry about him. He's got a good heart, but sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of his."

"Would you like to find out?" a deep, smooth male voice asked, inches away from her ear.

Bastila felt a shiver go up her spine; she knew that voice. "Vincent...when did you get here?"

"Hmm...long enough to hear your little conversation. Mission, if you'd be so kind as to give us some time alone."

The young, blue-skinned Twi'lek nodded and left silently, disappearing down one of the hallways of the **_Ebon Hawk_**. Bastila felt Vincent shift behind her.

"If you really must know, I can show you what goes on inside my head. All you have to do is ask," he said softly.

"And just what would I find?" she inquired, not wanting to turn and face him.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I couldn't tell you for sure."

Bastila finally turned and found herself staring at a tired, wet and bloodied face. "What happened to you?"

He brought a hand up to his face and wiped some of the blood from his jaw. "The Selkath down at Hrakert Station were all insane."

"You went down there _alone_?" she asked incredulously.

Vincent shrugged. "There was nobody to go with me. I would have been alone most of the time anyway," he explained. "There was only one Enviro Suit in the main base."

"You _were_ trying to get yourself killed," she muttered shaking her head.

"Look, I found the Star Map, and that's all that matters."

"No, what matters is that you did something incredibly idiotic by going down there by yourself!" she exclaimed.

Vincent's eyes narrowed. "I am tired, dirty, and in a lot of pain. Is it too much to ask to just let me be?"

Bastila turned to him slowly, her movements stiff. "Let you be? Let you be? So I'm a nuisance, am I?"

"Yes," he growled.

She raised her chin defiantly at his answer and gave a haughty sniff. "Well then, far be it from me to bother you any longer. I'll just "let you be.'" Bastila said in a voice that couldn't conceal her offense.

"You do that," Vincent replied scathingly, waiting for her to leave. She hesitated, hoping that maybe he was being sarcastic, but inside she knew that he wasn't joking with her. Swallowing and blinking away a wave of tears that sprang up suddenly, Bastila turned and stalked off, though her steps were not as forceful as Vincent had expected. Snorting softly, he turned and found himself staring at a pair of hard, angry brown eyes.

"You are the biggest jackass I've ever had the pleasure of knowing," Carth said in an even voice.

"Thank you. I try," Vincent replied flatly.

Both men said nothing, standing and staring at each other for a long time. Finally, Carth sighed, rubbed his chin and spoke.

"She's just concerned for your safety. It's the only way she knows how to express it, and you realize that. I know you do."

Vincent blinked and looked down. "You're right. She just...she picks the worst times." He exhaled. "I still shouldn't get mad at her though. I'm being stupid..."

Carth made a noise that sounded like "You got that right," but Vincent ignored it.

"Well, guess I better apologize for that...eventually." Carth nodded. "But only that," Vincent finished.

"What do you mean?" the Republic officer inquired.

"She said something..." Vincent offered vaguely. "Don't wanna talk about it. I just want to take a shower and go die in my bed. I really could use some drugs right now."

"As in the medicinal kind or the illegal kind?"

"Hah. Both if you've got 'em. I need a painkiller. Kolto doesn't work, I already tried."

"I'll set up the med bay then," Carth said as he exited the main hold and walked in the direction of the **_Ebon Hawk's_** medical bay.

"Yeah, thanks," Vincent muttered softly after him. Dragging himself wearily to the refresher in his room, he stripped out of his wet, dirty clothes and turned the shower on as hot as it would go. He winced as the stinging water buffeted his flesh, letting the stream massage his aching shoulders and neck. Bastila's words came back to him as he tried to relax in the shower, echoing in his head.

"_What do you want me to say to you? That you scare me? Fine. I'm afraid of you!"_

She had no idea how much those words had killed him inside when he had heard her say them. His fear hadn't been unfounded...to her he was frightening, uncontrollable. Vincent slid down the wet wall and brought his knees up, resting his forehead on his arms. He didn't want her to be scared of him, but she hadn't given him a true reason why. Sure, she had given him excuses, but deep down, he knew that she still hadn't told him the truth.

Washing himself thoroughly with his soap, Vincent winced as a fresh cut stung unmercifully. He rinsed the body wash off then shut down the water, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his dripping wet frame. Entering his room, drying himself off and disposing of the damp towel, Vincent grabbed a pair of baggy grey pants and a dark green long-sleeve shirt and dressed himself. Collapsing onto his bed, he stared up at the ceiling for a long time, slowly drifting into the void of unconsciousness.

"_Commander," an ensign said respectfully._

_Revan turned his attention the man standing before him. "What is it?"_

"_I have just received news that we have found the Star Forge sir."_

_Revan allowed a small smile to grace his features beneath his mask. Finally, after nearly a year of avoiding the Republic's prying eyes and gathering information, they had discovered the location of the Star Forge. This artifact of immeasurable power had been the driving force behind the soldier's every thought and action since he had first heard of it. His calculating mind had seen the trouble that was brewing in the Republic after the Mandalorian Wars, and Revan had come to a painful decision: if he wished to keep everything he had fought for as a soldier, he would have to destroy it. He had yet to reveal his affiliation with the Sith to anyone in the Republic; only a select few of his most trusted officers knew at the moment, but he had faith that the rest of his men would follow him without question._

"_Sir?"_

_Revan's head snapped around. "What?"_

"_Your orders, sir?"_

"_Tell all ships to proceed to the Star Forge's location and set up a perimeter. The only two ships that I want docking are mine and Malak's. Is that clear?" he ordered._

"_Yes sir." The ensign saluted smartly and exited the command deck. Revan gave the signal for his second in command to take over and exited the command deck as well, striding purposefully to his private quarters. Once within the safety of his own four walls, Revan removed his mask and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He was so close to the solution, yet he felt as if he had a lifetime ahead of him. Something wasn't right here..._

Someone was gently shaking him, and Vincent rolled away from whoever it was - right onto the floor.

"Oof!" He picked himself up gingerly, rubbing his head. "What?" he asked irritably.

"The warden says the High Court is ready to hear Sunry's case."

It was Bastila. Vincent tried to avoid looking at her but failed miserably. "Oh...right. I'd better get down there then."

"Were you having a vision again?" she asked quietly.

"Yes...why?"

She became very withdrawn at his response. "No reason," she said in a noncommittal tone.

Vincent grabbed a pair of boots and began to lace them up. Bastila watched him with a neutral expression, not moving from her spot leaning against the wall.

"Is there something else you need?" Vincent asked and immediately winced. He hadn't meant that to sound as acerbic as it did.

Bastila stiffened. "No." And with that, she turned and exited his room. Vincent sighed and stared at his open door for a moment before walking through it. Part of him wanted to apologize for being such a jerk to her, but part of him wanted her to be the one to apologize. It wasn't even an apology he wanted; Vincent simply wished she would open up to him. She was always so uptight, so afraid to share any of what she was feeling with him. He realized in hindsight that he had been much the same way – and was being guarded at the moment as well – and really had no right to complain.

Vincent pushed that problem out of his head and concentrated on the task at hand: freeing Sunry. He didn't think it would be too difficult but he wanted to be prepared nonetheless.

(You! The kolto that's floated to the surface is contaminated! You're going to have to explain this to the courts!) an angry Selkath yelled at him from outside the courthouse.

Vincent cursed under his breath. These damn Selkath hadn't stopped taking him to court since he had set foot on Manaan. He was grabbed by a guard and "escorted" inside to face the judges. His reputation had obviously preceded him, as the judges already didn't look happy.

(We have received word that the kolto that is floating to the surface is now contaminated and impure. We have reason to believe that you were the cause of this. Explain yourself,) one of the judges ordered.

"Your Honor, as I'm sure you know, the Republic has – excuse me, _had_ – a kolto harvester on the sea floor. I was asked to go down to the base and investigate a communications failure. What I found was a scene of complete carnage; all of the Selkath down there had gone insane and had literally eaten the rest of the crew alive."

(Insane? What is this nonsense?) another judge interrupted.

"According to my knowledge, when the kolto harvester was activated, a massive Firaxa shark came up out of the Hrakert Rift. I was told that a terrible screech was heard, and that the Selkath all proceeded to go insane," Vincent explained.

(A massive Firaxa shark?) The judges began to converse among themselves.

(Could it really be?)

(Do you think it's the Progenitor?) another one asked.

(Ask the Jedi! He saw it!) one suggested.

A judge turned to Vincent. (Please continue,) he said.

"Well, I had two options. I could either poison the Firaxa shark or blow up the harvester. I chose to blow the machine up. The Firaxa went back down into the rift after that. I came back to the surface."

(You have done us a great service, young Jedi. We believe that the Firaxa shark you encountered was the Progenitor, our ancient ancestor. We are immensely grateful for your decision not to kill the shark. You may consider yourself acquitted of all charges in this matter,) the judge said in a pleased tone.

(Uh, yeah, thanks. Listen, I'm the arbiter for the Sunry, and I was told that I could come before the court now,) Vincent reminded the judges.

(Ah, so you were. Yes, we will hear the case of Sunry vs. The Sith at this time. Bring in the defendant, the prosecutor and the witnesses.)

Vincent watched as a Sith was allowed into the room, followed by Sunry, his wife Elora, Firith Me, Gluupor and Ignus, the hotel manager. He paid little attention as the Sith laid out his case, stating something about cold-blooded murder and that it was imperative that the court found Sunry guilty.

(Arbiter, it is now time for you to question the witnesses.)

Vincent stood from the seat he had been designated and walked to the front of the room. The first witness was Ignus. Vincent decided to ignore any pointless questioning and get straight to the point.

"What did you hear or see on the night of the murder?"

"I saw the Sith woman come in around 8:30 and check into a room. Sunry came in around 9:00 and checked into the same room. At about 9:30, I heard a blaster shot, and then I saw Sunry running out of the hotel as fast as he could," Ignus said clearly.

"Do you think Sunry could've committed the murder? After all, he is a cripple."

"Well, I mean, it doesn't take much skill to shoot someone point-blank does it?" Ignus replied.

"True, but we haven't established that Sunry even fired a weapon that night. I have no more questions for the witness," Vincent said.

Next up was Firith Me.

"Tell me what you saw or heard on the night of the murder, Firith."

"Well, I stayed in my room most of the night, but I did hear a blaster shot. I peeked out of my room and saw Sunry running like hell down the hallway."

"Did you see either the Sith woman or Sunry before that?" Vincent pressed. This piece of information was vital to his case.

"Um, yeah actually, I did. Earlier, I had bumped into the Sith chick."

"And what happened?"

"Well, I noticed that she had a lightsaber on her belt."

"So she was a Dark Jedi?" Vincent asked.

"Yeah, she was. Robes, lightsaber...everything."

"Objection! The defendant is attempting to paint the victim in a bad light!" the Sith prosecutor exclaimed.

(Overruled,) the judge stated. (He is simply stating fact. If she was a Dark Jedi, that is relevant to the case.)

"I have no more questions your Honor," Vincent said to the judge. He nodded and motioned for the next witness to be brought to the stand, Gluupor the Rodian.

"Gluupor, what happened on the night of the murder, from your perspective?"

(Gluupor stay in room nearly all night. Hear shot, see Sunry leaving hotel in a hurry. Nothing more.)

"What about the war medal found at the scene of the crime? Do you know anything about that?"

(Gluupor...Gluupor not know about medal.)

Vincent grunted in frustration. He needed Gluupor to admit that he planted the medal in front of the court.

"Are you sure you don't know _anything_ about the medal?" Vincent asked, very slightly using the Force to persuade Gluupor. Thankfully, it went unnoticed by the judges.

(Gluupor will get into much trouble for this but...Gluupor was paid by Sith to plant medal on body. Gluupor was told not to tell anyone.)

The Sith made to protest, but was silenced by the judges before he could say anything.

"And Gluupor, did you actually see the murder happen?"

(No. Gluupor stayed in room. Saw nothing but Sunry running out of hotel.)

Vincent gave a self-satisfied smirk in the direction of the spluttering Sith prosecutor and said, "No more questions, you Honor."

Elora was next to the witness stand, and Vincent felt a pang of sympathy upon seeing her. She must've been through a lot since this whole murder scandal. He hated to have to question her publicly about her husband's affair, but he needed to.

"Elora, was your husband having an affair with the victim?"

"I...yes. He was."

"Do you think he killed the victim?"

"Sunry may be a lot of things, but he is not a murderer. He's a decorated war hero for the Republic. Surely that must count for something," she pleaded.

"And it is true that Sunry is a cripple, correct?"

"Yes. He can barely write or walk anymore it's gotten so bad."

"Thank you. I have no more questions for Elora."

Sunry was sent to the witness stand and Vincent took a moment to pause and collect his thoughts before questioning the ex-Republic soldier.

"You were having an affair with the victim at the time of the murder, is that correct?"

"Yes, that's right."

"But you were fed up with being used. The Sith were trying to pump you for information, and you had had enough. Tell me Sunry, if you tried to end the affair, would the Sith have objected?"

Sunry became as animated as Vincent had ever seen him. "You're sure as hell right they would've objected!"

"So that night, you had gone there to end the affair?"

"Yes."

"And what happened?"

Sunry shifted. "Well, we got into an argument. She was angry that I was leaving her, but I told her that I was through with everything. I left pretty angry-stormed out of the room, slammed the door and got out as fast as I could."

"And the victim was still alive when you left the hotel?" Vincent asked.

"Well, if being alive means yelling at you and threatening things, then yeah, she was alive," Sunry responded.

"No more questions."

Vincent glanced over at the Sith representative and repressed a triumphant grin. The man looked as if he was about to be hit by an oncoming speeder: eyes wide, mouth in an "o", face pale; he knew he had lost. The Sith quickly regained his composure however, and grudgingly took a seat to wait while the court debated. Vincent felt confident that he had persuaded the Selkath judges, but something was niggling at the back of his mind. The young Jedi _knew_ that Sunry was a murderer, and yet he was trying to keep him from having to pay for his crime. Though he knew it to be wrong, Vincent was trying to appease his conscience by telling himself that he was doing it for the Republic and not for Sunry or Elora or Jolee.

His thoughts were interrupted by the plaintiff barking, (All rise!)

The judges filed in at a leisurely pace, taking their seats before the courtroom – or lack thereof, seeing as the only turnout consisted of people suspected in the case, witnesses, the prosecutor and the defendant – was allowed to sit.

(We have come to a conclusion in the case of Sunry vs. The Sith. In this matter, we find the defendant...) - Vincent realized he was inadvertently holding his breath - (Innocent of all charges.) He exhaled and let his head loll backwards to stare up at the ceiling. The judges, however, were not finished just yet.

(Let it also be known that the Sith Embassy will face an immediate inquiry and will be subject to a thorough search.) The Sith representative made a move for the door. (_And_, let it be known that the prosecutor is now in our custody and will be taken immediately to the holding cells with no opportunity for visiting or communication with the outside world of any kind. Court dismissed.)

Vincent surveyed the scene before him. Elora was crying and hugging Sunry, who looked very relieved, and the Sith was being forcibly hauled off to the holding cells. Something compelled the Jedi to turn around, and he realized that all of his friends had been standing behind him throughout the whole trial, watching and hoping just like everyone else. Vincent's eyes searched for Jolee's face, and found it graced with the biggest, most childish grin he had ever seen. The older Jedi practically ran up to him.

"Ha ha! You did it! I don't know how - I don't care how - but you actually did it!" Jolee exclaimed before crushing Vincent in a large hug. He whispered into the younger man's ear. "But you and I both know he wasn't innocent."

Vincent pulled back and stared into the old man's face, searching, seeing the knowing sadness lurking behind Jolee's eyes. He smiled to keep up appearancesonce Jolee had finished and said in a quiet voice, "It was nothing. You would've done the same for me." Vincent paused and briefly met eyes with everyone. "Now if you'll all excuse me, there's a med bay table in the **_Ebon Hawk_** with my name on it."


	13. Chapter 13

Okay, this is a revised chapter. I took into consideration some of the reviews I received on this, and decided to fix it a little bit. Yes, there's more cussing in this chapter than probably any of the others, and no, I didn't put in the "best part", but I _did_ make it slightly more teasing, just because I felt like it.

On a completely random and unimportant note, I WENT TO THE DISTURBED CONCERT YESTERDAY, AND IT ROCKED! If anybody likes Disturbed, I would recommend them live, as they sound pretty awesome.

One last thing.

Recommended song(s) for this chapter: Taking Me Alive by Dark New Day for the torture scenes, and Sooner or Later by Breaking Benjamin for when Malak tells 'Vincent' he's Revan.

* * *

As soon as Vincent entered the med bay, all of his injuries seemed to amplify themselves tenfold. Limping over to the wall of computer screens and consoles, he switched the program on, specified his injuries and limped back to the table in the middle of the room. 

"**Please remove your shirt."**

Vincent jumped; no one had informed him that the computer talked. Mentally shrugging, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head, depositing the garment on the floor.

"**Please confirm. Your injuries are: cracked and broken ribs on both the left and right side, multiple contusions with massive hematoma on right shoulder, previous dislocation injury to right shoulder, possible broken left wrist, severed Achilles tendon of right ankle – attempted kolto treatment, and a probable concussion."**

Vincent paused a moment to make sure that the computer had covered it all before responding.

"Yes, that's correct."

"**Lie down on the medical table and relax. This will feel a bit odd, but it is simply a scan for your pulse rate, respiration rate, and blood pressure."**

The Jedi reclined on the table and relaxed as best he could, wondering what he was supposed to feel during this scan. Abruptly, a cold tingle swept through his right arm and upper chest causing him to inhale sharply. Vincent tried to let the air out in small, controlled breaths, as any fast expansion or decompression of his ribcage was painful.

"You could've warned me before you did that," he muttered.

"**I will remember to do that next time,"** the computer replied. **"If you would relax again..." **Vincent did as the feminine voice asked. **"Lie still, and breathe as normally as possible. I am calculating the extent of the damage to your ribcage, Vincent."**

He found it amusing that the computer actually knew his name. A small droid that looked much like a combat reconnaissance model floated to a halt above his abdomen. A wide beam shot out of a small projector on its face and scanned slowly over his chest and stomach, going vertically on one pass and laterally on the second. Vincent briefly wondered how that would give the computer a three dimensional image of his axial skeleton but he didn't dwell on the thought. Two curved pieces of metal were coming up out of the table, and they reminded him far too much of a restraining device.

"**This is not to hold you down. It is to heal your damaged ribcage. Keep still."**

The computer hadn't lied to him yet, so Vincent didn't move. Something flashed brightly; Vincent felt like someone had run him over with a speeder and then...nothing. It took him a moment, but the Jedi soon realized that he could breathe freely without pain.

"Uh...what was that thing?"

If it was even possible, the computer sounded amused. **"I simply gave the cells in your bones, the osteoblasts and osteoclasts, and the mitochondria in your muscles a supercharge so to speak. I gave them enough energy to do in seconds what would normally take them weeks, or even months. It is a form of extremely accelerated healing. Essentially, it's what I'll be doing to all of your injuries."**

"Ah," Vincent said. "Sweet. So now what do I need to do?"

"**Sit up for me, if you will. Extend your right leg like you are attempting to stretch your hamstring. Let your foot stay loose; I need to see what state your ankle is in."**

Vincent shifted his position to fit "her" orders. The small droid was scanning again, and the Jedi let his mind wander. He gave the fact that most ship computers had female voices most of his thought. He didn't see the point, but he figured he rather be told that they were being attacked by a sexy, feminine voice than a harsh male one. Especially if he planned to be out in space for long periods of time.

"**Vincent, daydreaming is a healthy break for the mind, but I would appreciate it if you would pay attention," **the computer said with a hint of irritation.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "What was I supposed to do?"

"**Rotate your ankle in circles for me. I'm checking range of motion."** He did as he was told and grimaced at the discomfort it caused. **"Let me guess, you tried a quick fix?"**

Vincent grinned. "What exactly is a quick fix?"

"**You injected kolto via a syringe directly into your ankle, waited until it felt good and then decided to actually use your foot like normal. I'm going to put a maximum time limit of about two minutes that I believe you let this injury rest before becoming active again."**

"You would be exactly right. I didn't have much of a choice."

"**If at all possible, refrain from doing that in the future. The droid is going to inject your ankle with a much more effective treatment now."**

Vincent felt a sharp prick in the back of Achilles before all of the pain simply melted away, much like it did with his ribs.

"**Lie back down. I'm going to look at your left wrist, right shoulder and your head now."**

He obeyed, once again, and closed his eyes while the small floating droid scanned his wrist, shoulder and head simultaneously.

"Handy little guy you got there," he commented when the droid was done.

"**It serves its purpose well. It seems that your left wrist isn't broken, just...crushed?"**

"I was propelled into a solid wall of rock."

"**Then this data is correct. Your left wrist has been crushed together at points. Your right shoulder has a healed impact fracture on your humeral head, and a healed tear of your anterior labrum, plus scarring on your rotator cuff. I'll fix the rotator cuff and help the scar tissue release to give you back range of motion. As for your head, no concussion, just a good run in with a wall, I assume?"**

Vincent grinned. "More or less. So I can just lie here while you fix all of this, right?"

"**That is correct. I will start with your wrist."**

A single, curved metal piece came out of the table this time and hovered above his wrist before a similar, but smaller, flash and almost unbearable feeling of pain shot through the lower half of his forearm.

"**And now your shoulder," **the female voice said as the curved metal was retracting back into the table. Vincent felt a warmth beneath his shoulder and realized a light was shining underneath his whole right arm. He heard a humming sound, almost like an engine revving in the distance or a computer gearing up to do some heavy processing.

He swallowed. This was definitely going to hurt.

For a third time, the light flashed. An excruciating wave of fire shot through his shoulder, making him physically lift his body off of the table in an effort not to yell.

"**I apologize for the fact that these procedures must be so painful, but you are now at 100. You're free to go."**

The small floating droid disappeared into a slot in the wall and the computer shut itself down. Vincent shuffled over to where his shirt was sitting in a puddle of green fabric. He slid the soft material over his head and felt its cool touch on his warm skin. A shudder passed through him and he gripped the medical table in an effort to stay standing. A feeling of dread coiled in his gut, leaving him uneasy and on edge for a few seconds longer. Something was not right...he was missing something vitally important.

"So does that thing work?"

Vincent looked up to see Carth peering into the room from the hallway. "Yeah, it does actually. Hurts like hell though for about two seconds before you feel great."

"Good. I'm glad that you're better. I was afraid you might just keel over on me before we could get back to the ship," Carth admitted. "Oh, by the way, we're ready to leave Manaan any time you are. Because of whatever you did down at Hrakert Station, there's a huge discount on medical supplies for us. I stocked up, just in case."

The Jedi nodded and followed the Republic officer to the cockpit. Checking the navigational computer, Vincent confirmed what he already knew: Korriban was the last planet to search. A primarily Sith inhabited planet, with only one real settlement, Dreshdae. Vincent had no wish to visit the planet at all, but that really wasn't an option. They needed to find the last Star Map to uncover whatever it was that Malak and Revan had been searching for in the first place - whatever the "Star Forge" was...

And then there was the ever-present fact that Bastila couldn't accompany them on the surface of Korriban. It was too risky, even if they disguised her somehow, a fact that Vincent didn't like at all. He exhaled as he slid into the co-pilot's seat and initiated the launch sequence.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just a little apprehensive about Korriban, that's all. I don't like the idea of being surrounded by that many Sith in one place," Vincent replied.

"Who would?" The Republic officer glanced at his friend. "I know what else is bothering you," Carth added almost too quietly for the Jedi to hear.

Vincent's interest was piqued. "Oh really? And just what else is it that's vexing my poor little soul?"

Carth turned to look him straight in the eyes. "Bastila," he stated.

Vincent swallowed. Carth was paying more attention than he had originally thought. "Well, it's true that we haven't made up yet, but – "

"But that's not what I'm talking about," the older man interrupted. "I'm talking about Korriban. We can't take her with us, and you know it. We all know it. You're afraid to leave her alone."

The Jedi wasn't sure if he was supposed to get angry or not, but he chose to stay indifferent. "Yeah, so? If you're trying to trap into saying that I care about her, then fine. I care about her. A lot. More than I should, probably. Where are you going with this?"

Carth shrugged. "Nowhere I guess," he said as he flipped the switch that took the **_Ebon Hawk_** into hyperspace. "We'll be there in an hour. You should try to get some rest."

Vincent rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Yeah, I think you're right. Call me if something comes up." The Jedi slowly made his way to his room, passing through the main hold and the garage on his way there. Juhani was in her normal spot, Zaalbar in his, as well as Canderous who was tinkering on something or another. Vincent wasn't surprised to not see Bastila; she had stayed in her room as of late. He didn't even bother to switch the lights on when he entered his room, opting instead to simply rely on his senses to avoid anything that might be in his way, and maybe use a little bit of Force powers to make sure he didn't kill himself in his trek across the room. Being Force sensitive was handy sometimes.

Vincent was out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, but not before that feeling of dread knotted his stomach again, reminding him that all was not well.

- - -

Carth sat in the cockpit, bathed in the blue glow that accompanied hyperspace travel, musing over recent events. They were on their way to the last planet that contained a Star Map, Vincent and Bastila were having a nice little hissy fit, and Carth had the distinct feeling that his male Jedi friend was hiding something again. He knew that Vincent wouldn't do anything to leave them in jeopardy, but this time it just seemed so much bigger. Whatever it was, Carth had noticed that it weighed very heavily on his friend's shoulders.

A single, flashing red light caught the pilot's attention and brought him out of his pensive mood. Checking his instruments, Carth cursed under his breath. A very large ship, a hyperspace interdiction cruiser if he guessed correctly, was disabling their hyperdrive engines. Carth punched the alarm with one hand and frantically tried to start the hyperdrive engines up again with the other. Within seconds, he heard the heavy thuds of Vincent's feet as he ran into the cockpit.

"What's wrong?" he asked breathlessly.

"Hyperdrive interdiction cruiser. They cut our hyperdrive. We're sitting ducks!" Carth yelled in frustration. "Dammit!"

Vincent glanced at the panels and dials in front of him and knew immediately what was wrong.

"It's got us in its tractor beam," he said quietly. "There's nothing we can do. Shut down the engines and main power and tell everyone to meet in the main hold."

"Where are you going to be?" Carth called after Vincent's retreating form.

"I need to think of a plan. I'll be in the main hold with the rest of you," he called back. Vincent entered the main hold just as Carth shut the main power off and silenced the engines. Quietly slipping into a darkened corner, Vincent settled in to wait while Carth gathered everyone. His mind was already in overdrive, calculating every possible angle, escape route, plan and strategy he could think of. He watched as Carth and the others all filed into the room and took their places around the holo-projector in the middle of the floor. The Jedi didn't move; he wanted to see what his companions would do.

"Vincent told me he'd be in here..." Carth said after a while, his voice betraying the smallest amount of doubt.

Bastila looked straight at the spot where Vincent was standing. "He's here," she said quietly.

"You cheated," he said deadpan. Not moving from his spot, he addressed the rest of his companions. "We're being towed in the tractor beam of a large _Interdictor_ – class ship. When they board us, I don't want anyone to fight back."

"What the hell kind of strategy is that?" Canderous interrupted. "You're not turning into a coward on me, are you?"

The Jedi fixed the Mandalorian with an icy stare. "If you want to get killed and screw up the escape plan for the rest of us, by all means, be my guest."

Canderous muttered something that sounded like, "Never mind" and fell silent again.

"The first person they'll be looking for is Bastila, so she won't be part of the rescue," Vincent continued. "Carth and I won't be either, as they'll most likely take us three somewhere else and keep us under close supervision. That leaves our options at Mission, Jolee, Canderous, or Juhani. Zaalbar, I'm afraid that they might just shoot you on sight if you get violent, and I don't want to risk that. See if you can stay on the ship. HK, T3, I want the two of you to put yourselves in the engine room and shut down. With any luck, the Sith will ignore you."

Zaalbar nodded and T3 and HK both went off to obey Vincent's request. Carth spoke up next.

"So do you have a plan for the rescue?"

Vincent exhaled. "Yes and no. I have an idea, but I need to know what each one of you is capable of before I make my decision."

"We can all do something," Mission chimed. "I mean, we've all got different skills. It depends on what we need to do."

Vincent smiled inwardly. Mission was a natural leader when given the chance.

"I could probably break out of whatever cell they put me in, then use a stealth field generator to sneak past all of the guards and get you guys free," she continued.

"I could break out of my cell as well," Juhani said. "If I am able to use my lightsaber, that is. I could also use a stealth field generator to sneak past the guards if need be."

Jolee was next to offer his services. "I may not be as tech savvy as the rest of you kids, but I know a thing or two about getting out of holding cells. I can use the Force to persuade whatever idiot is guarding me to let me out. I'd pretty much wreak havoc on my way to free you three, but I'd get there. You don't have to worry about that."

Canderous frowned and furrowed his brows in thought. "I sure as hell can't sneak around like the two women can..." He paused, his face lighting up as he formulated a plan. "I can pretend that I was working on the swoop bike in the garage. I was trying to overhaul the engines, and they blew on me. I'll set off a plasma grenade to simulate the burns the engine explosion would've made. With my bio-implant, I'll be back to normal by the time they put me in the med bay and take off."

Vincent was silent for a few moments, contemplating the pros and cons of each option.

"Canderous, your plan is the most believable in terms of deception, but I don't want to put your life in jeopardy like that unless it's my last option," he said finally.

The Mandalorian mercenary nodded in understanding.

"I think..." He fell silent again. "I think that you're our best bet, Mission."

The young, blue-skinned Twi'lek looked both surprised and pleased at Vincent's decision.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Take whatever tools you need to pick your way out of your cell and hide them. Once the guard leaves, break free, get your stealth field generator, and find a computer mainframe that links up with the holding cell commands. Free the rest of the crew; get the hangar with the **_Ebon Hawk_** open, then find a way to get to whatever level the detention cells are. That's where we'll be.

"Whatever you do, don't try anything foolishly heroic," the Jedi finished, patting Mission on the shoulder. "I have faith in you. I wouldn't have let you come with us if I didn't, and I sure as hell wouldn't have put this responsibility on you if I wasn't sure you could pull it off. You'll be fine."

A crackle of static came over the intercom system and the crew of the **_Ebon Hawk_** fell silent.

"_This is Admiral Saul Karath of the _**Leviathan**_, informing you that you are about to be visited by one of our boarding parties. We are only looking for three specific people. If you are not one of these three persons, you will be taken into custody and detained in our holding cells until further notice."_

"Saul," Carth growled.

Vincent placed a hand on the older man's shoulder. "Keep your head. If the opportunity presents itself, take it, but don't do anything stupid. I need you alive."

The Republic solider gave the Jedi an unreadable look before nodding and relaxing. "I promise I won't let my personal feelings get in the way. But if I have the chance, I _will_ kill Saul."

Pounding on one of the doors to the main hold interrupted their conversation, and a thick tension could be felt in the air. Everything was silent for a few seconds before:

"This is the commanding officer of the Sith boarding party. Open the door, or we will be obligated to enter by force!"

Vincent motioned for the others to stay behind him and walked up to the door panel, waiting for a few seconds before pressing the code to open the doors.

The Sith at the front of the group found himself staring at a green shirt, his eyes level with the chest of a much taller man. As he lifted his gaze, he transferred his eyes from a green shirt to equally green eyes that were filled with a coldness that unsettled him.

Vincent stepped away from the door and joined his friends. "You're looking for us," he said, indicating Carth and Bastila. Leave the rest of my crew alone."

"Right. Cuff 'em," the Sith ordered. Three of the soldiers rushed forward and grabbed each person's wrists, bringing them together and binding them with plasma restraints. The commanding officer gave the hand signal that Carth and Vincent knew to mean "move out", and were not surprised in the least when they were led away from the rest of their friends. Vincent glanced at his two companions; Carth looked frustrated but as if he had accepted his fate for the time being, and Bastila's face betrayed nothing other than boredom. He tried to take in his surroundings as they were shepherded through the **_Leviathan_**, but there were simply too many corridors and passages for his brain to remember. Besides, everything looked the same, and Vincent doubted that he would need to have a mental layout of the entire ship to successfully escape from it.

"_Vincent?"_

He blinked. Bastila was actually speaking to him. _"Yeah?"_

"_What do you think they're going to do to us?"_

He didn't respond immediately. _"Do you want the truth, or what we all hope will happen?"_

"_The truth."_

She heard his sigh in her head. _"They'll torture us if we don't tell them what they want to know. Period."_

Bastila could tell that he was done talking and decided not to press the issue. They had stopped walking and were standing in front of a single, large holding cell. The Sith soldiers shoved them from behind to keep them moving.

"Strip to your undergarments. You each have a designated locker. Place all of your belongings in it, including all weapons. This is your temporary holding cell until Admiral Karath wishes to see you," the head officer said, his voice taking on a malicious tone with the addition of his last sentence. The three captives did as they were told, undressing and placing all of their personal effects in their respective lockers before being herded roughly into the holding cell.

The Sith began to file out of the room, but not before Sith had one last thing to say.

"Oh, and don't try to break out. You wouldn't last fifty meters out of your cell."

Vincent gave him an innocent grin. "Wouldn't dream of it, my friend." Leaning back against the wall, he made a small noise as the cold metal came into contact with his skin. "I hope the others are alright."

"They'll be in better shape than we are once Karath gets done with us," Carth said darkly. "He's not known for being merciful."

"Let him take his best shot," Vincent said, though his response was not prideful. "He won't break me."

"Oh yeah? What about her?" Carth shot back. Vincent glanced at Bastila, who was looking up as well at Carth's comment.

"He can't kill her; Malak needs her."

"But he can torture her within an inch of her life. You won't feel guilty if it's your fault?"

"Of course I'd feel guilty. What kind of person do you think I am?" Vincent asked incredulously.

"But you won't tell Saul what he wants to know to stop her pain?" Carth inquired.

"And condemn the entire galaxy for decades to come? I..." Vincent faltered.

He was saved by the door opening with a hiss, and the three companions turned to watch a man in his late fifties, fitted with a dress uniform and a commanding air walk into the room.

"Bastard," the Jedi heard Carth mutter under his breath. Vincent knew then that it was none other than Saul Karath who had just graced the room with his presence.

"I had to come see for myself if it was true," Karath said as he approached the holding cell. "I still can't believe that we were fortunate enough to capture all three of you at once. Lord Malak will be most pleased to hear of this."

"Save the formalities Saul. What do you want with us?" Carth spat.

The Admiral laughed. "It is not _I_ that wants you, my old friend. It's Malak. He wants your friend here for her Battle Meditation. You two," he glanced at Vincent at this, "are merely thorns in his side. He will dispose of you when he gets here."

"Malak is coming here?" Bastila asked, hiding her apprehension well.

"Why, yes. This is his ship, after all. And he does so wish to meet you three in person. Until he gets here, however, I have been instructed to interrogate you. Guards!"

Three Sith soldiers appeared from around the corner.

"You know where to take them."

"Sir!" they all replied in unison, deactivating the force field and leading the trio for a short walk to a cavernous, dimly lit room lined with smaller, single-sentient holding cells.

"This can be entirely painless, you know. All you have to do is tell me the truth," Karath said as the two Jedi and the Republic soldier were locked into their cages. Vincent failed to suppress a contemptuous snort, and Karath's gaze turned wrathful as it shifted to him. "Maybe you'd like to be the first to reconsider my offer?" The Admiral addressed one of the Sith soldiers. "Level three."

The soldier pressed a few buttons, and Vincent stared defiantly at Karath. "Go ahead. Won't do you any good."

Saul smiled at the headstrong young Jedi. "We'll see about that." He nodded, and the Sith pressed another button, turning to watch the prisoners. Vincent grunted as the electricity hit him without warning, pounding through his body and making his nerves feel like they were being dipped in molten hot lava. He gripped his head in an effort to relieve the massive headache that was roaring through his brain and dropped to his knees when the pain didn't subside.

"Is that too much for you?" Karath taunted.

"Are...you kidding?" Vincent managed to force out. "This...is better than sex..."

The Admiral laughed aloud at Vincent's comment. "Up the level to five," he ordered the soldier who was controlling the electricity. The Sith nodded and dragged his finger along the dial on the computer screen, increasing the intensity to level five. Vincent refused to scream; instead, he resorted to snarling through gritted teeth. His emerald eyes never left Saul's slate-grey ones, an unspoken challenge to increase the torture.

"Stop!" Karath barked angrily. "This isn't getting anywhere. Perhaps torturing _you_ won't work...it's a little different when it's someone you care about, isn't it?"

Vincent's eyes narrowed. "You're a sick bastard, you know that?"

Admiral Karath grinned. "I do what I can." He turned to his subordinate. "Switch the flow to the middle cage. Set it back to level two. Don't want to overdo it." Saul faced Vincent once again. "Now, this is a simple game. I ask you a question, and if you tell me what I want to know, she doesn't get hurt. If you lie to me or don't answer at all, Bastila will be feeling what you just experienced. Understand?"

"You can take your questions and shove 'em up your ass, Karath," the Jedi spat, getting to his feet slowly.

"It's a shame you feel like that because I'm going to ask you anyway. We'll start with a simple one. Where is the Jedi Enclave?"

"How stupid do you think I am? Everyone knows where the Jedi Enclave is, especially you Sith," Vincent replied. Bastila's scream knifed through him as the torture began.

Karath motioned for the short session to stop. "Of course I know where the Jedi Enclave is – oh excuse me, _was._ Lord Malak bombed it into rubble about a week ago. But I'm wasting my time giving you the latest obituaries. You've visited a lot of worlds within the past few months. What kind of mission has the Jedi council sent you on?"

Vincent glared sullenly at Karath and stayed silent, squeezing his eyes shut when he heard Bastila cry out for the second time.

"You know what?" the Admiral mused aloud, "I have a better plan. Stop," he ordered the Sith. "Perhaps _you_ won't break, but I have the distinct feeling that Bastila isn't as strong as you are. Let's test my theory, shall we?"

Karath walked over to a large footlocker and rummaged through it for a moment before his hand emerged, clutching a deadly-looking Force whip. "Oh, we'll be doing this the old – fashioned way, in case you haven't noticed."

The force field around Vincent's cage flickered and disappeared. He was seized roughly by two bulky soldiers and held while something that resembled a very large doorway with two circular restraints for someone's wrists rose up from a hidden panel in the floor. The Jedi's captors dragged him to this contraption and pulled the restraints down, securing them around his wrists. One of the Sith punched a button, and the cables that connected to the manacles drew themselves taught, pulling Vincent's arms up and out; he was now, in effect, hanging from his wrists, as the pads of his feet were barely touching the ground.

"_Vincent..."_ Bastila's voice sounded scared and uncertain.

He raised his head and met her gaze with his own, looking deep into her eyes. _"Don't tell him _**anything**_,"_ he responded.

"Tell me dear; just what _is_ this mission the Jedi have sent you on?" Vincent heard Karath ask from behind him.

"He didn't give an answer and neither will I," Bastila responded calmly, managing to look indifferent.

"Hm, too bad," Saul muttered. Vincent heard the whip scrape across the floor steeled himself for the impact that was to follow. He grunted as the metal slapped his bare back, stinging unmercifully. Karath obviously hadn't taken off the small buffer of energy that surrounded the whip and allowed it to be a less than lethal weapon.

"Do you know what the Star Forge is?"

Bastila hesitated for a moment too long. The whip cracked again, leaving another angry red mark on Vincent's unprotected skin. Karath moved to stand beside his Jedi prisoner. "Do you know where it is?"

Bastila took a chance. "Yes," she replied.

Karath's eyes narrowed and he paused. "That was a very good lie."

This time, Vincent was able to see the blow before it landed. Karath raised his right arm high and brought it down in an arc to the left, making the metal lash connect squarely with his stomach and wrap around his body. The Sith Admiral deactivated the energy buffer and yanked the loop of metal back, tearing a line of flesh from his prisoner's waist. Vincent's breath came out in a hiss as he felt his skin ripping away, the whip biting into exposed muscle tissue.

"Carth, how about you?" Karath crooned. "How did you get caught up in all of this?"

"Go to hell, Saul!" the pilot barked through clenched teeth. Saul shrugged and brought the whip down on Vincent again, landing a third strike on his back. The energy buffer was back on, a fact that Vincent admitted he was grateful for. Karath suddenly flicked his wrist, coiling the metal around the Jedi's throat and pulling it taught.

"Tell me," he said, getting centimeters from Vincent's ear and speaking softly, "do you love her?"

"Why...do you care?" the prisoner managed. Karath jerked on the whip hard, causing Vincent to choke and gasp for breath.

"Answer the question," Karath whispered fiercely.

Vincent ground his teeth and pulled away from the Admiral's suffocating hold as much as he could. "_Yes_," he rasped angrily.

He felt a sharp pain at the back of his neck and then...

Darkness.

- - -

(3 hours later)

Bastila was absently messing with a loose piece of dark hair that had fallen from one of her pigtails, staring with a vacant expression at the cold metal wall in front of her. She glanced almost resignedly at the bruised and battered body of the only other person in the cell with her, a man who had been beaten badly. Though she knew this man – no, she reminded herself, she _thought_ she knew him – he seemed so far from her at this moment. He hadn't moved for hours, and showed no signs of doing so anytime soon. She didn't blame him.

Her exterior, seemingly jaded and indifferent, belied the turmoil that was raging within. Bastila was angry. Angry that Saul Karath had tortured her friends, angry that Malak was coming to the very place that they all were, and most of all, she was angry that the Jedi Council, a council that she had trusted implicitly above all other influences and voices, had let this happen.

She was troubled at the condition her cell-mate was in. He had received no medical attention, and she feared that his condition was worsening.

But there was something else that was gnawing at her.

A burden that she was not used carrying. A burden of guilt.

She felt responsible for what had happened to the man lying on the floor. She knew Karath had used her as leverage, asking her questions and beating him when she didn't answer. Never before had she been accountable for the physical harm to another person in this magnitude – enough harm to cause death. Though she worried that he was dead, she knew he wasn't. She would've felt it if he had passed on and become one with the Force. No, he was still very much alive, just in a deep and unremitting coma.

Bastila wondered what it would be like if he was dead, to no longer be bonded to him, no longer share that deep emotional connection to which she had grow so accustomed. The thought terrified her, and in that moment she realized a deep and profound truth that she had been foolishly denying until then.

She loved him.

"I've been such an idiot," she murmured. "He's been there the whole time, patiently waiting for me, and I pushed him away." Bastila gazed regretfully at his prone figure, noting the fiery red lashes that marred his back and the deep gash that ran around his hips. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He groaned and shifted, beginning to pull himself out of the black veil of unconsciousness. She fell silent and contented herself with watching as he gradually regained his senses.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice harsh and grating, barely recognizable. He still had not rolled over, nor had he pushed himself up.

"Back in another holding cell," she responded listlessly.

His arms came up from his sides and he placed his palms flat on the metal grating of the floor. Pushing up, he raised himself to a semi-kneeling position at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Oh my God," she heard him breathe out as the pain set in.

"Don't try to move too quickly. They kept torturing you, even after you passed out."

"No shit," he rasped hoarsely. He turned over to sit on his backside, his face now visible to her. Deep, dark purplish-black bruises formed a wide ring around his neck, contrasting harshly with his now ghostly pallor. His arm brushed against his open wound and his breath came out in a tight hiss as a sting lanced through his abdomen. "Are you alright?"

Her eyes flicked to his face briefly when he asked this. "Yes," was her short reply. Bastila saw him wince as he attempted to move closer to her, and for a moment she was tempted to be the one to move and ease his suffering, but for some unknown reason, she stayed put.

"Carth?"

"Saul took him somewhere else. I don't know where."

"Oh." He kept his eyes on her for a long time but said nothing. Finally, "Are you sure you're alright? You look...different."

"I've had a while to think, Vincent."

"About what?"

"Lots of things."

A thick, uncomfortable silence fell between them for a long while, neither Jedi willing to breach it with words. 'Vincent' didn't know what to say and it was obvious to him that Bastila didn't want to talk, yet he still felt like he needed to force her to. She was at the event horizon of an emotional black hole, and if he didn't do something, he was scared he might lose her to the abyss.

"I'm here if you want to talk," 'Vincent' said, "but I think you know that already."

Bastila gave him a sad smile. "I know. You're always there."

There was something crushingly remorseful in her words that he found disconcerting.

"Then why don't you let me help?"

The melancholy in her smile was now reflected in her eyes. "Some things can't be fixed so easily."

"Don't do this again," he warned, frustration beginning to show on his face.

"I'm not pushing you away Vincent. You can't help me this time." She stopped. "Have you ever met someone and thought you knew them, only to find out they weren't who you thought they were?"

'Vincent' was silent. What did she mean by asking that? "I've never hidden anything from you. You know who I am."

"Do I?" Bastila asked quietly. 'Vincent' was perturbed by her question and the straightforward innocence it held. Picking himself up off of the floor, he crawled slowly over to where she was, placing a hand on the side of her face and gently forcing her to look at him.

"Bas..." he said almost inaudibly.

Her eyes swam with unshed tears as she looked into face, seeing the worry and compassion he had for her, even in the horrible condition he was in. Squeezing them shut in an attempt not to cry, Bastila gently pulled away from his hand, his mere touch reminding her of what she had done. 'Vincent' made a small noise of confused frustration and cupped her face, forcing her to face him again.

"Bastila..." he said again, equally as soothingly as before, and she felt him rub the pads of his thumbs along the corners of her eyes, wiping away the tears that were threatening to roll down her cheeks. She opened her eyes reluctantly, and found that his face was inches from hers. She could tell that he was confused and hurt by her cold demeanor, but that he was trying not to show it. Bringing a hand up to his neck, she traced one of his bruises with her fingertips, letting her hand come to a stop at the nape of his neck, just below where he had been choked. A corner of her mouth twitched upward briefly in a smile; she had felt his pulse quicken when she touched him.

"Thank God that Force whip had a buffer most of the time," she whispered, moving her fingers to draw along one of the many red lashes that covered his body, this one in particular along his side and stomach.

"Better me than you," he replied with conviction. Bastila glanced up at him again, a strong feeling of deep affection constricting her throat and making it impossible for her to answer him. 'Vincent' locked his eyes with hers, and she saw a flicker of indecision in his for a moment. Before she could ask what was wrong, he leaned forward and Bastila felt his lips brush tenderly against her own before –

"Guys? You in here?"

'Vincent' pulled back like he had been shot, his eyes closed, jaw clenched, and an altogether irate expression on his face. Any response he had was halted by Carth's sudden appearance from around the corner.

"Mission got me out," he explained as he worked on opening their cell. The purple force field dissipated into nothingness as Carth entered the proper code and freed them. "C'mon, our stuff's this way. The Sith raided our whole ship, and every single weapon and piece of armor we had is now sitting in a bunch of plasteel cylinders just waiting for us to come and get it."

When they reached their belongings, 'Vincent' made it his first objective to obtain any medical supplies that he could. Sliding open the plasteel cylinder, he felt immense relief upon seeing a large number of medical packs and life support packs ready for use. Snatching up a red life support pack, he popped it open and began to administer treatment to himself, concentrating solely on the large, open gash around his waist.

"Hey," he heard Carth say and he looked up. The Republic officer was holding up Calo Nord's battle armor and a durasteel armor mesh underlay. "Want me to put it in?"

'Vincent' nodded and continued to self-medicate. Looking around he noticed that Bastila was fully dressed and equipped, and Carth was dressed in his normal garb, but newly outfitted with much deadlier blasters than before. Coming back over from the small workbench that occupied a single corner of the large room, Carth handed the improved armor to his Jedi friend who slid it on effortlessly, despite his many injuries. The young Jedi found his lightsaber, clipped it to his belt, and continued to search for another. When he came across the one that he was looking for, he hooked it to the other side of his belt, filled the rest of the empty weapon slots with various grenades, and placed a mixed variety of med packs and life support packs in the small pouch on the strap.

"Mission said something about an elevator we can use. We should find it," Carth suggested. 'Vincent' nodded and began to lead the group down the corridor that led away from the detention block.

"Wait a sec, Mission used stealth to get to us, Vincent. What about –"

A Sith heavy trooper had rounded the corner, but before he had time to even raise his weapon a fraction of an inch, 'Vincent's' violet blade was protruding through his skull.

"What about what?" he asked as the heavy trooper slumped to the ground.

"Never mind," Carth muttered. "I thought you were still hurt," he observed. 'Vincent' had moved awfully fast for just having been electrocuted and flogged.

The Jedi made a disgruntled noise. "You of all people should know about ignoring pain when you're fighting," he growled, his voice still rough. The trio continued on, encountering only one other patrol on their way to the elevator, but seeing numerous dead bodies already littering the hallways.

"Elevator." He pointed to the lift and the three of them entered the circular apparatus.

"Where to? The Command Deck?" Carth asked, reading the levels that the device serviced. 'Vincent' nodded and leaned wearily against the nearest wall, letting his head loll back. Carth felt for his friend; he had received the worst of the electrocutions, and was the only one who had been physically beaten. The doors opened slowly to reveal a group of Sith heavy troopers and grenadiers.

"Hey! Those are the prisoners!" a female voice exclaimed from inside one of the trooper's metal armor suits as they all raised their weapons to fire. 'Vincent' quickly raised his left hand and let loose with a blast of Force lightning, watching with a cold impassiveness as the Sith's metal armor acted as a conductor for the electricity. It jumped from soldier to soldier, and two in the front dropped to the floor, smoking and lifeless corpses. Carth landed a few well–placed shots on one of the temporarily defenseless grenadiers, recognizing that they would pose the most problem.

"Close the doors," 'Vincent' barked, unclipping a plasma grenade from his belt and arming it. Carth punched a button and the massive doors began to slide shut. Just as they were about to meet, 'Vincent' rolled the grenade through the small opening and backed up.

"Grenade! Fall ba –"

_**Bang! Boom! BOOM!**_

The sound of the plasma grenade going off, followed by the subsequent explosion of all the grenadier's handheld missiles rocked the floor beneath the trio's feet.

"That," Carth commented, "was the most dangerous thing you have done yet."

"No, it doesn't top the tarentatek."

"The what?"

"I got impaled by a tarentatek on Kashyyyk. _That_ was the most dangerous thing I've done," 'Vincent' explained distractedly as they headed for the first set of doors on this new level. They slid open and five more Sith heavy troopers came charging out, blaster rifles armed and ready. The Jedi felt the sting of blaster fire sizzle past his ear and a second later, heard it neatly deflected by a lightsaber.

"Snap out of it!" he heard Bastila yell as she charged past him. Shaking his head roughly, he ignited both of his lightsabers and twirled them, getting a feel for double wielding before throwing himself into the fray. Using his left weapon, a crimson blade, he scored a blaster rifle in half, screwing his wrist around and shearing the heavy trooper's arms off at the elbow. 'Vincent's' attention was already focused on the next enemy as he impaled the Sith through the chest; he blocked a diagonal slash from a vibroblade with his right blade, his violet one, and shoved forward, forcing the trooper's arms up above his head. He brought his red lightsaber around in an arc parallel to the ground, cleaving the enemy in half with a transversal cut. As 'Vincent' turned he saw Carth, locked in a deadly grapple with another Sith, free one hand, bring the muzzle of his blaster up, press it beneath the Sith's chin, and pull the trigger three times. The Republic soldier shoved the body down with a hint of disdain and glanced at 'Vincent'. The Jedi knew that Carth's distrustful look was directed at the weapon he was holding in his left hand. Bastila was standing, two bodies flanking her on the ground, one with its entrails spilling out onto the floor and the other with a deep gash running from shoulder to opposite hip. 'Vincent' raised an eyebrow at her, but she simply deactivated her yellow, double-bladed lightsaber and clipped it back to her belt, brushing past him to enter the room behind.

There was apparently nothing of great interest in the room, as she reentered the hallway a few minutes later with an annoyed expression on her face.

"Didn't find anything?" 'Vincent' called from the body he was inspecting.

"Nothing," she replied. "Just information we already know."

"Hmm. I don't think we know this," he said, holding up a data pad. "It says that to get to the Bridge, we need - you've got to be kidding me - _space suits_?" The male Jedi stood up. "I guess we have to go outside the ship to get to the Bridge. Damn. It says we can find the suits in the armory." He sighed and tossed the data pad to the ground, not giving it a second glance. "Let's find the armory then."

They continued through room adjacent to the one the Sith had just come pouring out of and entered another hallway, taking a left at the first doors they encountered. When Carth pressed the button to open the doors, they remained frustratingly shut.

"I don't think I can hack this," Carth said dubiously, shrugging apologetically.

"I'll get it open," 'Vincent' interjected. Once again igniting his violet blade, he plunged it into the center of the door, twisting it slowly and watching as the metal burned away. The doors flew open after a few seconds, the locking mechanism that held them together completely melted away by 'Vincent's' lightsaber.

Carth shook his head at his friend. "Or that'll work."

This managed to elicit a small smile from the Jedi as he entered the room and looked around.

"Hey, the space suits are over here," he called, making his way to the corner they were nestled in. "Well crap..."

"What now?" Bastila asked wearily.

"We can't run around the whole ship carrying these things. We should find the exit to the bridge first, then come back and get the suits."

Carth and Bastila agreed, and they exited the room to continue their exploration of the Command Deck. Taking a right in the hallway as if to go back the way they came, they passed the room they had already been in and took another right at the next junction of hallways. There were two sets of doors on the left, one on the right.

'Vincent' abruptly came to a halt and gripped both of his lightsabers tightly. "Shit," he muttered. "Dark Jedi. Three of them, in that room," he continued, pointing at the far doors. Carth tried to speak, but 'Vincent' held up a hand, silencing him. "Lemme think."

Without speaking, he turned to the right and entered that room, going to the computer panel that it contained as soon as he saw it was there. After a few seconds of button-punching, he returned to the hallway.

"Okay, these doors right here," he pointed to the ones directly across from them, "they open to an adjacent room. Those over there open straight into where the Dark Jedi are. Bastila, I'm going to need you on this. Take these."

He handed her a frag grenade and an adhesive grenade.

"Go in those doors, and I'll go to the main ones. When I say, you need to throw those grenades at the Dark Jedi. Once you get in the smaller room, you'll see that there's a partitioning wall that'll block you from view for a few meters. Use that for cover until you have to throw the grenades, and stay behind that wall after you throw them. Go." 'Vincent' turned to Carth. "You're coming with me. You can shoot a grenade out of the air, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm going to toss a thermal detonator in the air. I need you to shoot it when it gets above the Dark Jedi. Make it quick though, because I'm going to be charging in there pretty fast," 'Vincent' explained. The two men took their places on either side of the door.

"_You ready?"_

"_Waiting for you," _she replied.

'Vincent' nodded, and Carth moved to open the doors. The Jedi waited until he was just about to press the button, then screamed _"Now!"_ through the bond. Bastila tossed the grenades, and the frag went off with a satisfying **_Boom!_** while the adhesive grenade managed to snare one of the Dark Jedi and slow the other two down. 'Vincent' tossed the thermal detonator into the air and watched it sail through the air in an almost eerily slow manner. He turned his head just in time to see Carth let off a shot, and to feel the heat of the explosion ripple through the air and wash over him.

He charged into the room with a yell, both lightsabers twirling, and his out of his peripheral vision, he caught sight of Bastila doing the same. He blocked an overhead slash and tried to back away, nearly losing his footing on the blood that was coating the floor. Glancing down, he realized that the thermal detonator had shredded one of the Dark Jedi's skulls, splattering blood everywhere. Blocking another attack with both of his lightsabers, he lunged forward, twisting his crimson blade to the left, shoving the Dark Jedi's lightsaber out of the way, and thrusting his violet one into the left shoulder of his enemy. Sliding his lightsaber down the shaft of the Sith's, he forced it down until it was nearly at his attacker's hand. Flicking his wrist back to the right, he brought his blade back up, slashing through the right arm and shoulder of his enemy.

Bastila had a slightly easier time. She had attacked the only other Dark Jedi in the room, the Dark Jedi who happened to still be stuck to the floor by her adhesive grenade. Though he was immobilized, he had still managed to block most of her first attacks, attesting to the skill that he possessed. Bastila then used her double-bladed lightsaber to her advantage. With one end, she made to hammer his right shoulder. He blocked it, as she knew he would; she pushed the free end down and forward, cutting deeply into the Dark Jedi's legs and causing the strength with which he was blocking her attack to weaken exponentially. Bastila applied force on the upper end of her weapon, and forced the Dark Jedi's own lightsaber to slice through his chest.

Carth was still standing in the doorway, one blaster drawn, and looking somewhat dazed.

"Smart move," was all he said to his male friend.

"Yeah, thanks," 'Vincent' replied. "That exit leads to the bridge. We should go get the space suits now."

The trio headed back to the armory, obtained the suits, and proceeded through the airlock once they had gotten into the equipment. 'Vincent' was awestruck by the sight that greeted his eyes as he stepped out into the cold vacuum of space. Millions of stars were burning brightly against their velvety black backdrop; an enormous nebula, filled with swirling pinks, purples and blues seemed to become a cavernous maw as the light bent within the gasses to create an optical illusion of immeasurable depth.

"Is that not the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" Bastila asked from beside him. He turned to look at her, barely able to make out her face through the visors that protected their eyes from any harmful light that a star or planet would emit. He stared at her for a long while before responding, "Hmm. Not quite."

The trio continued around the walkway until they came to another airlock, passing through it and discarding their space suits. They entered the next room and were greeted with five Sith troopers, all very shocked at their sudden appearance. Bastila put two of them in stasis, 'Vincent' sent two of them flying into the wall with a large whirlwind of Force, and Carth shot down the remaining Sith before he had a chance to draw his weapon. 'Vincent' cut down the two Sith that were locked in stasis while Bastila assaulted the two enemies who were picking themselves up off of the ground. They never made it to their feet.

"C'mon. The bridge is just up ahead. We should be able to open the hangar bay doors from there," 'Vincent' said, leading his friends down the long corridor to the bridge. He immediately noticed the fact that they were quite outnumbered as the doors to the bridge slid open.

"Ah, so you made it," Saul Karath drawled from the front of the room, turning to face the trio as they entered. His voice hardened. "Kill them."

'Vincent' launched two thermal detonators at the Dark Jedi and Sith troopers that were nearest Saul, watching with a grim satisfaction as the explosion took out one Dark Jedi and two Sith troopers. Hurling himself at the last Dark Jedi, he felt a rush of adrenaline flood through his system. This was going to be a good fight.

The Dark Jedi parried 'Vincent's' first attack, a high blow with his violet lightsaber, and used the other end of his double-bladed crimson blade to catch 'Vincent's' other lightsaber before he could use it to attack. The screech of their weapons locked together filled the air and added to the noise and chaos of battle raging around them. Shoving the Dark Jedi back and spinning away, 'Vincent' dropped into a defensive stance, holding his right blade just above shoulder height and his left blade in front of him. With a growl, his enemy lunged at him, showing his mastery of the double-bladed weapon by forcing 'Vincent' to retreat backwards as he hit him with a flurry of fast, deadly strikes.

The young Jedi deactivated his violet lightsaber and clipped it back to his belt swiftly, bringing his free right hand to grip the hilt of his crimson blade tightly. Though he was comfortable with double-wielding his weapons, he preferred to fight with only one. The two combatants were circling each other now, touching blades every now and then before launching into a full on attack. The Dark Jedi was good, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that 'Vincent' had the upper hand. 'Vincent' knew this as well, and began to bide his time, waiting for his enemy to make a slip in technique. His patience was soon rewarded as the Dark Jedi lunged for him again, striking out viciously with his lightsaber. 'Vincent' blocked the attack, shoving his assailant's blade into the ground; he flipped over the Dark Jedi, twisting in mid-air and bringing his lightsaber down to cut the man in two. He managed to bring the back end of his weapon up just in time to stop 'Vincent' from halving him, but he was still off balance and at the young Jedi's mercy. 'Vincent' screwed his wrists around, shoving the Dark Jedi's weapon out of the way and severing it in half with a deft movement of his hands. He slashed at the Dark Jedi's thighs, bringing him to his knees, and thrust his weapon through the man's chest.

'Vincent' turned to look at Saul, placing a foot on the Dark Jedi's back and slowly pushing him off of his crimson lightsaber, baring his teeth in a predatory manner as the body hit the floor with a dull thud. 'Vincent's' snarl turned to a feral grin as he saw the fear in Saul's eyes. Before he could reach his new target, however, an errantly thrown grenade landed mere feet from where the Admiral was standing, exploding and sending Karath into the air to land ten feet from where he once was. Angrily, 'Vincent' turned to see whose fault this was; his head snapped around just as Bastila cut down the last enemy, a Sith trooper who was already badly injured and had been presumed dead during the hectic battle. 'Vincent' checked to see that none of his companions were seriously hurt, and was surprised to hear Saul's voice.

"Carth," he rasped, his voice barely audible. Carth's head snapped around, and he picked his way through the debris that littered the bridge, coming to a stop and crouching over Karath's prone form. Saul pulled him down and whispered something to him. This action caught both 'Vincent' and Bastila's attention, and they began to make their way to where Carth was. The Republic officer suddenly pulled away from Karath as if he had been burnt and looked furious. He stood up, staring at the man lying beneath him for a few seconds before pulling out his blaster and aiming at his old mentor. His fiery gaze settled on 'Vincent' for a moment, his eyes showing hatred and disgust, before switching to Bastila.

"It's true, isn't it?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Bastila looked at 'Vincent' as well before returning her attention to Carth, giving him a look that clearly stated he was not to continue. "Yes, it is true. The Council thought it the best course of action."

"Could somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?" 'Vincent' interrupted. "I have the distinct feeling that this has to do with me."

"We can discuss this later, I promise. Right now, we need to get off this ship before Malak gets here," Bastila said, trying to pacify the two men. Carth glanced down at Karath one more time, his finger pressing on the trigger of his blaster slightly.

"Killing him won't make it better," 'Vincent' said quietly. Carth locked eyes with the Jedi and defiantly pulled the trigger, causing Saul's body to twitch one last time before going limp. 'Vincent' felt Bastila pulling his arm roughly, and he turned to her, his face clearly showing his frustration.

"We need to go. _Now_."

"Alright. I need to open the hangar doors," he replied, walking up to the bridge console and began to work on opening the hangar. "Well for the love of...how many of the bastards are there?" he exclaimed as the hallway camera showed three more Sith troopers about to enter the bridge. "Three troopers about to enter!"

Bastila sprinted for the door and stopped just short of it, igniting her yellow lightsaber and waiting. The door slid open, and all the troopers – and 'Vincent' – saw was a blur of yellow before the Sith's bodies hit the ground.

"Nice one," he called as he finally opened the hangar doors. "They're open. Let's go."

They made it halfway into the maze of corridors and hallways before being ambushed by another group of Dark Jedi; this time, there were only two of them. Frustrated at the delays that kept hindering them, like invisible hands grabbing them and holding them back, 'Vincent' took the situation into his own hands. Running in a seemingly wild manner at the Jedi, 'Vincent' did a twisting flip, landing on his feet and immediately transferring his momentum smoothly into a back flip. Beginning his descent backwards, he planted his hands on the floor and used his abdominal muscles to pull his feet into his body, giving him the appearance of crouching while upside down. Using all of the momentum he had built up before that point, 'Vincent' shoved back with his arms and legs, his feet impacting squarely with one of the Dark Jedi's chests, sending him into the wall. Landing deftly on his feet, 'Vincent' grasped his right fist in his left hand and threw his arm up and back in a vicious strike behind him, slamming his elbow into the other Dark Jedi's face and breaking his nose, sending his ethmoid into his brain and killing him instantly. His body hit the ground just as his companion's was rising from the floor. 'Vincent' landed a spinning kick in his enemy's face as hard as he could, snapping his head back and to the side, breaking his neck in the process.

"Go! There's more of them!" he barked as he glanced down the other hallway. His friends began to run in the direction of the elevator, and he quickly followed. He squeezed through the doors just as they were about to shut, hitting the back wall and slumping down, the pain his body was feeling finally catching up to him. He couldn't repress a groan as he tried to breathe, closing his eyes and savoring the few moments of peace. He felt the elevator slow to a halt, and he opened his eyes to find that Bastila was standing in front of him, her hand outstretched to help him. Taking her small but strong hand in his own, he thanked her for the aid with a silent nod. Continuing with their brisk pace, the trio skidded to halt upon encountering yet another group of Sith, a Dark Jedi Master and his two Jedi companions. At this point, 'Vincent' was close to snapping. He was in agony, he wanted to get off this damn ship, and the enemies seemed to be in no short supply.

"Get _out_ of my way," he growled.

The Master smiled maliciously. "I think you're sadly mistaken if you beli –"

'Vincent's' right hand was outstretched as if he were reaching for something, and in essence, he was. Concentrating on the Force, he felt the way if flowed through everything within himself and through those around him. Focusing on his enemies' currents, he simply reached out and took hold of one of them. The effect? The Dark Jedi Master was cut off in mid-reply, unable to respond because of the immense pressure that suddenly gripped his throat.

The two Dark Jedi tried to use their own Force powers against 'Vincent', but to no avail. He had anticipated this, and had erected a barrier that was impervious to all but the strongest attacks. Allowing part of his concentration to switch to the two Dark Jedi, he sent them flying into the wall with a large push of Force, never relinquishing his hold on the Master.

Bastila had witnessed his eyes narrow, a cold, hard killer's eyes replacing his warm, comforting green ones. He made to close his fist and kill the man, but he faltered, blinking, and Bastila saw that his eyes were no longer a mask of emotional withdrawal. They glazed over for a brief moment and he pressed his fingertips against his temple, dropping the Dark Jedi Master to the ground. He looked confused, as if he had been acting outside of himself, and Bastila noticed that he staggered slightly as he took a step back. Grasping his wrist firmly, she pulled him through the open door and into the control room, not pausing as they passed through that as well. The trio's progress ground to halt another door slid open to reveal the one person that they were desperately trying to avoid.

"Darth Malak!" Bastila growled.

"Down you go!" Carth barked, raising both blasters level with the Dark Lord. He only got off a few shots, all being deflected easily, before a wave of Force energy knocked him flat on his back. The Dark Lord's attention didn't remain off of them for long, however.

"I hope you weren't thinking of leaving so soon Bastila. I've spent far too much energy hunting you down to let you get away now."

'Vincent' automatically placed himself between Bastila and the Dark Lord. Carth groaned next to them, uninjured but stunned, and slowly returned to his feet.

Malak continued: "Besides, I had to see for myself if it was true. Even now, I can hardly believe my eyes. Tell me," he hissed in his vicious mechanical voice, his eyes now directed at 'Vincent', "why did the Jedi spare you? Is it vengeance you seek at this reunion?"

"Reunion?" he asked, eyes riddled with confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Even through the metal jaw, 'Vincent' could see his vile grin.

"What?" he asked in astonishment, followed by a torturous laugh. "You mean you don't know? Ha-ha-ha!"

The young Jedi twitched, his anger rising.

"All this time," he continued to taunt, "and you still haven't figured it out?" He laughed again. "I wonder how long you would have stayed blind to the truth. Surely some of what you once were must have surfaced by now."

'Vincent's' brows furrowed and he took a small step backward.

"Even the combined might of the Council couldn't keep your true identity buried forever, could it?"

Clenching his eyes shut, 'Vincent' struggled within himself as memories flashed through his mind.

_"The Jedi don't believe in killing their prisoners," her delicate voice said. "No one deserves execution, no matter what their crimes . . ."_

_"The Council would not normally accept an adult for training . . ." the Master said gently, "but this is a special case."_

_"They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind: it can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity!" Carth stated._

_"Tatooine . . . Kashyyyk . . . Manaan . . . Korriban . . ." she mused, reading off each designated world. "Revan visited each of these worlds to learn of the hidden location of the Star Forge . . ."_

_"The lure of the Dark side," Master Vrook explained, "is difficult to resist. I fear that this quest to find the Star Forge could lead you down an all too familiar path."_

_"What greater weapon is there than to turn an enemy to your cause? To use their own knowledge against them?" Bastila spoke._

_He saw Darth Revan on the bridge of his ship...an explosion ripping through the bridge...Revan in a pool of blood on the floor...Bastila kneeling over the Dark Lord's nearly lifeless form. The scene switched to someone else's view to show Revan standing on the summit of an ancient temple. The Sith Lord removed his mask, revealing a man in his early twenties, with dark hair, a neatly trimmed horseshoe moustache that ran all the way down the sides of his mouth, as well as a small goatee in the middle of his chin, electrifying, pale green eyes, and a thin scar running from the outside corner of his right eye._

'Vincent's' eyes snapped open, his gaze full of fury and agony. He turned slowly to look at the woman on his right.

"You lied to me!"

Bastila flinched as if she had been slapped. "The Council deemed in necessary to hide your identity from you. I wanted to tell you!"

'Vincent's' head was pounding mercilessly. "How could...I trusted you!" he all but screamed. The pain in her face was telling him to stop, but he wasn't listening. "You and the whole goddamn Jedi Council lied to me! You brought me back just to use me as a means to your own end!" His voice lowered as he spoke, mostly to himself. "I should've seen this...the Order _never_ lets somebody my age become a Jedi..." 'Vincent' turned back to Bastila. "And I thought you were different...I honestly believed you were better than that."

"It doesn't seem the Jedi have done a good job in "reforming" you, Revan."

The Jedi turned to the man who had spoken.

"And you," 'Vincent' said, addressing Malak in a dangerous voice, "you betrayed me, you son of a bitch!"

"Don't be so shocked. It was you who taught me the way of the Sith, you who swore by the code of 'only the strongest will survive.' I saw my opportunity to kill you and claim the title of Dark Lord, all in one brilliant stroke! I miscalculated, however. The Jedi saved you, brainwashed you, and here you stand: a _Jedi_. You're pathetic if you think you can defeat me," Malak sneered, igniting his blood-red lightsaber and freezing 'Vincent's' companions in place. Twirling his lightsaber, the Dark Lord dropped into a defensive stance. "I didn't kill you once. I won't make the same mistake this time."

'Vincent' copied Malak, adopting his trademark defensive posture: his body turned so that his left side faced the enemy, right leg dropped back for balance, lightsaber gripped with both hands, held level with his shoulder and parallel to the floor, and his right arm pulled back a 90 degreeangle to point the tip of his blade at Malak.

"Familiar?" 'Vincent' taunted.

"You always were too confident in your own abilities, Revan," Malak growled back, the two combatants beginning to circle each other.

"If I remember correctly, you were too stupid to realize you didn't have any," the Jedi retorted.

Malak swung his lightsaber, a strike that 'Vincent' blocked with ease, countering with an attack of his own.

"Your skill with the lightsaber was unsurpassed during your reign as Dark Lord. Let's see if you remember how to use that weapon you're holding."

'Vincent' took a few seconds to size Malak up and weigh his options. The Dark Lord was taller by at least a good three inches, but 'Vincent' could already tell from his movements that Malak was also slower than he was. Being taller meant he would have a longer reach, both an advantage and a disadvantage. The advantage was that 'Vincent' could crowd him while not feeling restricted himself, but the disadvantage was that he couldn't distance himself from Malak if the situation called for it. Not in the tight quarters in which they were fighting.

With a yell, 'Vincent' attacked his opponent, slashing high and meeting stiff resistance. Violet clashed with crimson, both combatants pushing against each other, neither gaining ground. 'Vincent' let his grip loosen somewhat on his lightsaber, giving Malak the impression that he was weakening. The Dark Lord took full advantage of this and pushed forward with a great deal of strength – exactly what 'Vincent' wanted. 'Vincent' let Malak push their lightsabers toward his left shoulder, waiting until his own violet blade was inches from searing into his armor to let go of his lightsaber with his left hand, spin to the right, and slam his elbow into Malak's temple. The blow sent him staggering backward into the wall, a small river of blood running from where he had been struck. Malak's pupils were dilated, and 'Vincent' knew that another grin would be plastered on his face if it were not for the metal that covered the lower half of his face.

"Good," he said, as if applauding a student, "Very good."

'Vincent' bared his teeth in his own feral grin. "Taking notes yet?"

Malak gave a short bark of laughter, his eyes narrowing to the point where his yellow irises were no longer visible. 'Vincent' was sure that his eyes looked much the same way, pupils dilated and eyes narrowed. The two of them were in the excitement of battle, and both of them relished the adrenaline pumping through their blood.

Malak charged this time, striking with more ferocity and speed than 'Vincent' had expected. He deflected the Dark Lord's attacks skillfully, while trying not to take too many steps backward and get himself stuck with his back against the wall.

"What form are you using?" Malak grunted as he blocked on of 'Vincent's' strikes.

"Ataru. You?"

"Juyo. Works better against lightsabers."

"I know," 'Vincent' growled back, stopping another slash from Malak and shoving his lightsaber away. "_I_ taught you that one."

He had no idea how he knew that, but he just did. He knew it in the same way that he knew how Malak would fight: unexplainable, but the knowledge was there. When Malak had told him he was Revan, it was as if a whole new part of him had been unlocked. Memories and things he knew before the Jedi had brainwashed him were coming back to him as he fought Malak, mostly of lightsaber techniques and battle strategies. Abruptly, 'Vincent' felt the heat of the Dark Lord's lightsaber near his neck, and he brought his weapon up to parry.

"You're not paying attention!" Malak snapped. "That's not like you, Revan."

Growling, 'Vincent' shoved Malak's lightsaber down, jumping up and thrusting out with both of his legs, and kicking him with all of his strength squarely in the chest. 'Vincent' landed hard on his back, and he heard Malak crash into the wall. Picking himself up, he was furious to see the Dark Lord open one of the many doors that surrounded them and retreat through it. Rushing to the door, his anger increased as he found that it was locked.

"Coward!" he screamed as the door to his left opened and he ran through it. Finding his way through a short maze of corridors and locked entrances, he came across the Dark Lord for a second time. Without so much as a pause, he used the Force to propel himself directly at Malak, who brought his lightsaber up to block 'Vincent's' overhead strike. Rage coursing through every inch of his body, the Jedi smashed Malak's lightsaber out of the way, landing barely two feet from his enemy.

"Don't run away from me you gutless bastard!" he shouted, slashing at Malak and kicking him in the kneecap, sending him to the ground. The Sith Lord retaliated by hurling a wave of Force energy into his former master and slamming him against the wall. Malak held him there, increasing the pressure and watching as 'Vincent' was crushed against the metal. Suddenly, he stopped struggling, and Malak felt an excruciating flood of agony rip through his skull. 'Vincent' dropped to the ground roughly, feeling something give way in his knee. He got up slowly, favoring his leg as little as possible; he didn't need his enemy to know that he was hurt. That last ditch effort to stop Malak from crushing him to death had drained him, and he didn't want to risk healing himself only to need that strength at a later point.

Leaning against the door behind him, 'Vincent' waited for the Dark Lord to get up from his knees. Suddenly, the west door opened and Bastila and Carth ran in. Her eyes locked with 'Vincent's' for a moment, and he saw the pain behind her blue-grey orbs.

"Go!" she ordered, igniting her double-bladed lightsaber and turning to face Malak.

"C'mon," Carth grunted as he hauled 'Vincent' up and dragged him through the exit he had just been leaning against.

"No!" the Jedi yelled, struggling furiously against Carth's grip. "NO! What are you doing? We can't leave her!"

The door slid shut and locked with a finality that scared 'Vincent'. Carth had let him go, and he flung himself against the metal, igniting his lightsaber and thrusting it through the huge door.

"She's gone," Carth said quietly. "That's a blast door. You'll never get through." He sighed, and 'Vincent' could detect the hurt in his voice when he continued: "We need to get back to the ship. We have to get off with the others."

'Vincent' slammed his fist against the blast door in frustration. Carth was right, but there was no way he was just going to let Malak have Bastila like this. As the Jedi stood, he shut himself off from his emotions. The pain and betrayal he was feeling was making decisiveness difficult, and he needed to keep his head right now. Tightening his jaw, he gave a small nod to Carth, and the two of them followed the corridor around the room that Bastila and Malak had sealed themselves in to the ground floor of the hangar bay.

The ship was taking off as soon as the exit ramp had closed, their destination pre-determined, with only one planet left to visit.

They were going to Korriban.


	14. Chapter 14

Recommended song: Fade by Staind

CAUTION: This chapter is definitely more explicit than all the others. I apologize if you think it's overboard, but I didn't make it incredibly profane. Just more so than usual. You'll see.

Sorry about the wait again. School's really been killer lately, as I've had to put some serious effort into maintaning my math average...I hate math.

And about the profantiy again, just wanted to say that I'm trying to make this like normal people, dealing with VERY strong emotions. Sorry if you hate cussing, but I find that people do it more if they're stressed or angry or whatever.

* * *

He stared vacantly at the wall of his bedroom, just as he had been doing for the past three hours. He was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, legs drawn up, with his forearms resting against his elevated knees. His breathing was nearly imperceptible, and movement was all but nonexistent. Cold was the floor he was sitting against, but he didn't notice, nor did he care. Reality, he was forced to face; the truth, thrust like a rapier into his gut. 

He was Darth Revan.

The man who was responsible for this war. For millions of lives.

This truth, this reality was what he lived with now. And yet he was still denied a proper life. With no memories of his past, how could he have a life? No – he was a shell of a once great man, a great man who had fallen trying to save the galaxy. A man who had been seduced by a power that was superior to him.

A power he foolishly thought he could control.

Revan saw it even now, in his actions, in his thoughts. His confidence in his own strength was his greatest weakness. He saw this, and it humiliated him. Right now, he had no pride, no drive, and no will to live. He was stripped bare, robbed of everything that he once called his. His namesake – a lie. His trade –a falsehood. His past – a fable. His very mind – shattered. And he was left to pick up the pieces.

He blinked, the first sign of life exhibited by his body in the past few hours. Closing his eyes, he lowered his chin to his chest, suddenly ashamed to even hold his head up. An immense weight slowly pressed itself down upon him making it difficult to breathe, and he clutched a hand at his chest, pulling at the fabric of his shirt in a vain effort to ease the force that was crushing him. After a few minutes, the pressure began to recede and he could once again breathe with relative ease. Revan found that he was impossibly tense, every muscle taught and on edge. Letting out a weighty breath, he slumped fully against the wall behind him. Leaning forward, he rested his face in his hands and rubbed it tiredly.

He shifted, listlessly picking his body up off of the floor. Revan trudged heavily to the refresher without bothering to turn on the lights. His room was bathed in night, and his eyes had long since adjusted to their obscure surroundings. Casting a disapproving glance into the mirror, he absently noted the stubble that was beginning to cast a dark shadow on his features.

He wished to die at that moment, but he could not bring himself to commit such a cowardly act as suicide. Though his own personal pain was more than he could bear, he had no desire to inflict any more suffering on anyone else close to him. Suddenly, Revan got the feeling that he was a stranger in his own body. He felt separated from himself in a way that he couldn't describe. There was a gaping void in his inner being, and he felt the echo that it produced like a physical blow.

_"He who makes a beast out of himself, gets rid of the pain of being a man"_

Revan raised his eyes once more to the mirror as the words flashed across his mind and peered at himself closely. Was he a beast? Some people thought so. If he was, it certainly wasn't ridding him of his pain. Was he a man? He wasn't so sure anymore. There was only so much a man could take before breaking, and Revan feared what would happen when he reached that point. As it was, his mind was shaky at best, and he didn't want to test the limits of his psyche. Revan abruptly realized that there was something off about his appearance, something he was not used to seeing in his reflection. He scrutinized every inch of his face, leaning closer to the mirror in an effort to make the defect easier to recognize, but failing to pinpoint the cause of his new unease.

Turning from the mirror, he made to walk out of the refresher, but stopped short of ever taking a single step. Slowly, he pivoted back to the glass that held his reflection and brought a hesitant hand up to trace the scar on his right eye.

It was his eyes. They were different.

Revan could barely make it out in the darkness, but it was there nonetheless. It wasn't the color that had changed, but rather, the gaze the emanated from behind those mesmerizingly green orbs. It was older, more burdened, a cold and heavy stare, dark, condemning - as hollow as the soul within. Unable to bear looking at his reflection any longer, Revan stepped out of the refresher and closed the door forcefully. He leaned back against the wall, and closed his weary eyes as his flesh touched metal, feeling the icy tendrils of cold seep through the cloth of his shirt and curl around his skin to chill him.

And at that moment, he felt absolutely alone.

Revan slid to the floor, everything in him crying out for something to hold on to, something to give him the will to go on. Bastila immediately came to mind, and he despaired even more. She was currently in the charge of Darth Malak and –

Revan felt a surge of anger flood through him. _Darth_... a title that should have, for all intents and purposes, still been his. He ground his teeth, his jaw clenching tightly. He had been defeated, no, betrayed, by a weaker enemy – a lesser man even – and Revan _hated_ to lose to an inferior. To make it worse, that inferior had taken the one thing that he cared about most. Standing up quickly, Revan's face hardened, as did his resolve.

Malak was going to pay for what he had done. Revan would make sure of it. Malak was going to suffer for every ounce of pain he had inflicted or yet to inflict on Bastila and he was going to remember just who it was he had screwed over.

Revan took a deep, cleansing breath and felt his head clearing a little. Calming himself, he looked at his options realistically. He had to complete his mission; he could figure the rest of his problems out later. Ignoring the pain, however, was not quite as simple as deciding to deal with it at another time. It persisted unmercifully, and Revan found that he still felt empty inside, despite his new desire to continue with his responsibilities.

"You alright in there kid?"

Revan turned his head to look at the door. It was Jolee. A bitter smile flitted across his features for the briefest of moments, a short-lived relief from the dark grimace that had become his mask.

"I know you're in there. You can ignore me if you want, but we're all worried about you, you know."

"Carth could care less," Revan responded bluntly, stating the truth in a factual tone. He heard Jolee sigh.

"Look at it from his point of view. This is hard for him too. It is for all of us," the older man said.

"It shouldn't be for you. You knew the whole time, didn't you?"

It was silent for a few seconds, and Revan knew he was right.

"Yeah, I knew. I'm not sure what it was about you, but I knew." Jolee sighed again, and walked slowly away from the room.

Revan looked within himself as Jolee's footsteps retreated down the hallway, searching for the dark persona that he knew resided within him somewhere. Suddenly, a wave of agony ripped through him, causing him to stagger and place his hand against the wall for support.

"What the hell?" he cursed softly, noticing that the pain seemed oddly muted. Horror welled within him as he realized that it was coming through his bond, meaning that what Bastila was feeling was much worse. A sensation that he was going to be sick replaced the fear inside of him, and he cradled his stomach, sinking to his knees. But it wasn't his stomach that was hurting – the ache seemed to be just below it. His eyes went impossibly wide as he realized where Bastila was feeling this pain.

"Son of a _bitch_! I'm going to fucking kill you!" Revan screamed, failing to suppress a cry when the pounding in his gut increased. He knew that if he closed himself off from Bastila that the pain would stop, and he refused to do it. Whatever she was suffering, he was going to suffer it as well. It was his fault that Malak had captured her, and he was not going to abandon her now.

"Kid, what the hell's going on in there?" Jolee yelled, banging on the door.

Revan groaned again, forcing the words out of his mouth. "Malak's doing something to Bastila...and I can feel it too."

"Open the door," the older man commanded. Revan sent a push of Force at the panel, and heard the door open with a "whoosh."

"Crap," Jolee muttered. "You're going to have to close the bond or something."

"No," he growled stubbornly. "It should be me anyway."

"Revan –" The young man's eyes flashed with an ineffable emotion at being called this, "The best thing for you to do right now is to find that last Star Map. Finding that will find Malak. And Bastila."

Revan knew that Jolee was right, but he didn't want to accept the fact that there was nothing he could do for Bastila. Resignedly, he nodded his head in assent.

"I know. We need to go to Korriban."

"We're already there," Canderous interrupted, having appeared at the doorway when he heard the commotion, jerking his head in the direction of the cockpit. Revan got up slowly, the pain still near-debilitating, walked to the pilot's area, glanced outside and saw the barren desert of the Sith planet, the harsh glare of Horuset, Korriban's only sun, serving to give everything a reddish hue.

"Jolee, pick who you think should come with me. I'm going to get my armor."

Revan returned to his room and opened the closet that held all of his possessions, inspecting them closely. He had found even more equipment on the **_Leviathan_**, and his decisions for armored protection were now virtually limitless. Still, Revan preferred freedom of movement to invulnerability, and for that reason, chose the Light Battle Armor that Gadon Thek had given him after the events of the underground swoop racing. Donning the tan and red suit, Revan felt a deep respect for Gadon and what the Hidden Beck leader had done for him when he really had no reason to. He wondered if Gadon would've shown him the same courtesy had he known that he was dealing with the former Dark Lord of the Sith. For some reason, Revan had the strong conviction that he wouldn't have cared much.

Lacing up his boots and buckling his belt around his waist, the young man grabbed the lightsaber that he had personally constructed and ignited it, looking at its violet color thoughtfully. It seemed to vacillate between a deeper purple and its normal hue, and Revan gave an amazed "humph" at this new phenomenon before switching the blade off and clipping it to the ring on his belt. Carefully inspecting the rest of the lightsabers that he had collected throughout their journey, he decided on one that, if he remembered correctly, he had found on the corpse of a Dark Jedi Master on the **_Leviathan_**. It was superbly crafted and perfectly balanced, and the crystals in the hilt of the lightsaber enhanced the blade in a way that fit the weapon better than any other combination Revan had tried. The only thing he had left to do was change the blade's hue. It, too, was purple, and he did not want to have two blades of the same color.

Grabbing for a blue crystal, Revan faltered. Blue was not a color that the Sith used often, and he was about to be among a planet full of them. He picked up a red crystal instead, realizing that it would be the least conspicuous color; he didn't wish to make this trip any more agonizing than it was already going to be. Once at the workbench in the garage, Revan worked quickly and skillfully, easily dismantling the lightsaber and switching out the color crystals. Almost as an afterthought, he disassembled his own lightsaber and inspected the power crystals within them. He currently had an Upari crystal with a Damind crystal; frowning, he removed the Damind gem and replaced it with an Opila crystal, remembering the Opila gave him a better chance for landing a crippling hit. Reassembling both of his weapons, he ignited them and twirled the blades to get a feel for their handle. Satisfied, he switched them off and clipped both of them to his belt, moving to the main hold in search for Jolee.

Revan found Jolee there, along with Carth – the one person who he had managed to avoid thus far.

"What's going on?" Revan asked diplomatically, opting to ask that rather than what he was thinking, which was "What's he doing here, because I _know_ he doesn't want to be around me."

"He's coming with us," Jolee said matter-of-factly.

Revan shifted his gaze to Carth, watching the older Republic soldier for a few moments. "That's fine," he said, and he meant it. Revan bore no ill will toward Carth, though the soldier had never willingly given him his trust. Interestingly enough, the former Dark Lord felt the anger that had earlier simmered beneath the surface, mostly directed at his traitorous ex-apprentice, dissipating somewhat to be replaced by a weary resignation. It was as if he had accepted his fate and the consequences that it held.

"You look...different," Jolee commented.

Revan met the wiser Jedi's eyes. "I don't feel so angry anymore – at Malak, I mean. I...it's my fault he went down the path that he did. I can't hate him for that."

"You're a better man than most to realize that," Jolee said, somewhat surprised at Revan's confession. "I didn't expect you to see that and admit it so easily."

Revan gave a grateful but sardonic smile. "Thanks. It's good to know that I'm watched that closely." His demeanor changed, darkened, and he exhaled heavily. "But I won't sit by with the passive 'serenity' of a Jedi while he destroys the galaxy and hurts the people I care about because of his warped view of my goals."

"What goals?" Jolee asked in confusion.

"The goals I had for the Republic when I became Darth Revan. I only remember bits and pieces of them, but they sure as hell aren't what Malak is doing right now."

Carth glanced at Jolee, seeing that he was interested in this new discovery as well. "And just what did you plan for the Republic?"

Revan rubbed his forehead. "I – I'm not sure. I left all of the militarily fortified planets intact for some reason. It wasn't galactic domination that I sought after, I know that. I think...I think I was trying to make a stronger Republic." He shook his head in frustration and shrugged his shoulders in a helpless manner. "I'm sorry. I don't remember."

"Revan, you're going to be surrounded by the Dark side here on Korriban," Jolee warned.

"I know," he said, interrupting. "I'm not going to let it get to me this time. I promise."

"I believe you mean that, but we will stop you if we think you're going too far."

He looked upon his comrades with a newfound level of respect. They were simply looking out for his best interests.

"You know, I really could've used friends like you during the Mandalorian Wars. Maybe then, none of this would have happened. I might not have become the biggest screw-up of the galaxy."

A loud voice crackling over the ship's intercom interrupted and informed them that they were now securely landed, and he exited the main hold and smacked the button to lower the **_Ebon Hawk_**'s exit ramp. Immediately, he was met with the obligatory docking fee and a brief description of Dreshdae's accommodations. The only thing that piqued his interest was the Sith Academy that was mentioned, and the solitary cantina, "The Drunk Side." Paying the fee, Revan and his two companions entered into the main complex of Dreshdae. He noticed that Carth seemed jumpy and on edge.

"What's the matter?"

"Damn Sith," Carth muttered. "They're everywhere. I hate this."

"Relax. As long as you don't piss them off, you'll be fine."

Carth grumbled sullenly, apparently resuming his formerly gloomy attitude. Revan's countenance darkened as he looked ahead of them. A Sith man was yelling something at a group of three people, all of whom looked terrified. As he drew closer, he could make out that the man's name was Shaardan and that the three people were Sith 'hopefuls', or whatever that meant. Shaardan turned as Revan and his friends got closer, and a sadistic grin spread across his tanned face.

"Ah, you there! You look like a decisive fellow. Tell, me, what should I do to these miserable wretches?"

Revan blinked calmly, sizing up Shaardan. "That depends on what you're trying to accomplish."

"Hmm...should I fry them with lightning? That's always an impressive display. Or how about suspending them indefinitely? Or maybe I could make them lose control of their bodily functions! What do you think?" Shaardan spoke.

"What do I think?" Revan paused, pretending to think. "I think you should let them go and realize that you're a pathetic excuse for a human being."

Shaardan became furious. "Oh, a smartass eh? We'll see how long you last here!" He stormed off, leaving the three terrified hopefuls behind.

"Are you three alright?" Revan asked.

"Now we'll never get into the Academy," one of them moaned, ignoring Revan's question. The former Sith Lord shook his head in disgust and walked on, not willing to deal with three sentients whose brains were obviously elsewhere. Jolee, Carth and himself entered a large, pentagonal room that held an information kiosk in the middle, but was otherwise of little use to them. They attempted to simply pass on through, but it seemed that even walking without being accosted was a feat to behold. Revan was stopped, this time by an attractive, young, blonde female student.

"Look here boys," she said, addressing the cronies that lagged behind her. "Seems we've got some more fresh meat. Tell you what, if you entertain us, we'll let you pass without any, ah, _difficulties_."

"Yeah, tell us a joke. Makes us laugh!" one of the men behind her crooned.

"Get out of my way. I doubt you'd be so insolent if you knew you were dealing with the Dark Lord of the Sith," Revan growled threateningly.

The woman let out a bark of laughter. "Dark Lord of the Sith...ha-ha...that's a good one! Do you really think we'd believe that? Lord Malak is Dark Lord, and no one can challenge his power."

Revan continued his act, snorting contemptuously. "I am his master, Darth Revan. The whelp betrayed me, and I intend to repay the favor."

This sent the whole group into paroxysms of laughter, and the female struggled to speak.

"You _are_ a funny one...I...I think we'll let...you pass. What do you say boys?"

"Yeah, let him go. That was pretty good."

"I expect to see you at the Academy," she said. "Come on, let's go."

Revan watched with a detached curiosity as the female and her group retreated down the hall and exited outside into the harsh desert.

"Are you _nuts_?" Carth hissed in his right ear. "Just announce that you're Darth Revan why don't you!"

Revan glared at him. "Please. You saw how they reacted. They don't believe a word that I'm saying, and for good reason. They all think that I'm dead. I know what I'm doing, so just shut up and stop being distracting."

Carth was riled, but soon realized from the gentler look in Revan's eyes that he was not being fully serious. The look said that he needed to keep up appearances, and Carth understood completely. Revan's voice had risen at the last sentence, and the display had served to earn him some small measure of respect, no matter how miniscule, in the eyes of the Sith. They respected cruelty and raw power, and Revan needed to exude that with confidence. Finally making it out of the room, the trio resumed their trek of the settlement and soon found themselves heading toward "The Drunk Side" cantina. A small Rodian was standing just outside of the cantina, by the sign, and he motioned for them to come over when he saw Revan.

"You're the newest owner of the **_Ebon Hawk_**, right?"

Revan nodded.

"If you do me a favor, I can pay you well."

The 'Jedi' stared at the Rodian. "Depends on the favor. Tell me what it is, and I'll think about it."

"Fair enough," the Rodian replied. "My name's Lurze. Davik promised a shipment of spice back when he owned the ship. As you can imagine, with his demise, it never reached me. I'd like to get it, if you don't mind. It's in a secret compartment, and I know the code. It's R-2683. Bring the spice here, and I'll pay you 1000 credits."

"1500 and you've got a deal," Revan countered.

The Rodian shrugged. "Sure, why not. It's good of you to help me out on this, so what are 500 more credits? Just make sure you bring back the right spice. I'll know if it's a fake."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to cheat you out of some drugs that I didn't even know I had, much less some drugs that I'm never going to have any need for. I'll check into it next time I go back to my ship."

"I'll be here," the Rodian said, ending the conversation and entering the cantina. Revan followed, and gave a cursory glance around the room. No one of immense importance stood out, so he settled on the next best thing: a Sith hopeful.

"Excuse me Miss, but I was wondering something."

A young woman turned, surprised that Revan was speaking to her, and stammered, "Um...s-sure. I don't know if I'll be much help though."

Revan gave a patient smile. "I'm sure you will. I just wanted to know who I needed to speak with to get into the Academy."

The woman's face lit up. "Oh! Yuthura Ban. She's the one who decides if you're good enough to even enter the Academy doors. She frequents here, but I haven't seen her around today. Sorry."

Revan made sure that his most charming smile was on his face as he responded. "Thank you very much, Miss."

"Wait," the woman blurted, her face turning a deep crimson as Revan's alluring green eyes came to rest on her again. "I was...I was just wondering if you were a Jedi."

He furrowed his brows at her question, but answered nonetheless. "I was once, yes. Why?"

"Well..." she cast a cautious glance around her and leaned closer, lowering her voice, "I just don't feel as if I belong here. I don't know if I have what it takes to make it into the Academy." Her eyes widened as she realized what she had just confessed. "Oh, please don't tell Yuthura I said that if you see her!"

Revan smiled gently, placing a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. "I had no intention of mentioning it. But about what you said; if you're not cut out to be a Sith, why not try the Jedi? I think it would be a good place for you."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "If it's such a good place, then why did you leave it?"

He thought for a moment, wondering how to answer that. "I didn't say I had left the Order," he said slowly. "And I misspoke earlier when I said I was once a Jedi. I still am, technically, I just don't consider myself to be one any longer. I am not here to defect to the Sith. I am simply here to learn, and I'm searching for something - an artifact I need to find. The Sith are not what brought me here, so please don't misjudge my presence as another fallen Jedi."

A light had been growing in her eyes as he had spoken, and it shone as a fire behind the glassy brown orbs, sending a small flicker of hope to Revan that maybe he could redeem himself for the deeds of his dark past.

"Thank you, sir. I hope that what you say is true."

"You know that the Enclave on Dantooine is gone, right?" Jolee asked once the woman had left.

Revan nodded. "I know. But if she's looking for the Jedi, she'll find them. As for me, though the Sith are in no short supply, the single one I need to find seems to be missing."

Revan wandered back out of the cantina, deciding that since he had nothing more pressing to do, he would retrieve the spice that Lurze the Rodian had requested. He asked that Jolee and Carth stay behind to see if they could find this Yuthura person while he completed his task. Re-entering the docking bay and his ship, he went into the cargo hold, knowing that it would be the only location for a hidden spice compartment. Spotting a very well-blended panel behind a stack of plasteel cylinders, Revan made his way over to it and found that it indeed was the space he was looking for. After a brief inspection, he found the panel to enter to code, and felt a small amount of triumph as the panel slid away to reveal a package of spice waiting to be retrieved. He stuck a single hand in and grabbed the package, shoving into one of the large pockets in the outer cloth of his armor.

Back at the docking bay, Revan was approached by a cordial-looking Twi'lek. For some odd reason, he wasn't suspicious of this man in the least, and he contributed some of that to the fact that no deception was coming from the man through the Force.

"Excuse me, but I believe you are Revan, are you not?"

"I am," he replied honestly, surprised that the Twi'lek knew his real identity. "What can I help you with?"

"I am simply a messenger. Mika Dorin wishes to extend an invitation to view his stock. You must talk to him in the cantina, but he will only show you what he has for sale if you ask to see his premium wares."

"Why are you telling me this? Why would he want to sell to me?" Revan asked, perplexed as to why a merchant would actively wish to sell to the former Sith Lord.

The Twi'lek smiled. "Mika is one of the few who believes that your motives were more noble than the Republic has lead people to think. Besides, he had heard of your more recent exploits, and he has a hunch that you respect quality goods. He has also heard that you pay well. Go see him. I promise you won't be disappointed."

The Twi'lek disappeared from whence he had come, leaving a somewhat bewildered Revan behind. Deciding that he might as well talk to this Mika character since he had to be in the cantina anyway, Revan resumed his former course, and soon caught sight of Lurze again.

"Lurze!" he greeted. "I have your spice."

Lurze eyed the bag carefully and gave a nod of approval. "It seems you do, my friend. Here are the credits I promised you." He handed Revan the 1500 credits. "There is one more favor I would ask of you before we part ways."

Lurze brought out a medium-sized bag and held it up.

"There is a box in here that needs to be delivered to Motta the Hutt on Tatooine. He will pay 2000 credits for it, not a penny less. Will you deliver this for me? I'll have my boys put it on your ship for you."

"Motta the Hutt? I'm sure I'll get around to Tatooine eventually, so I guess I can deliver your box," Revan replied.

"One word of caution: Don't look inside the box," Lurze warned gravely. When the Rodian turned away, Revan knew their conversation was over. Shaking his head, he entered the cantina and immediately noticed a purple-skinned, female Twi'lek with Sith tattoos adorning her face. He approached her with an authoritative air and asked her point blank, "Are you Yuthura Ban?"

She wasn't impressed by his show, and she eyed him warily. "Yes. And just who are you?"

"I'm looking to get into the Academy," he answered. "I was told to talk to you."

"So you want to become a Sith?" Yuthura asked skeptically.

"Why else would I be here? Korriban isn't much for tourism, or the people," Revan shot back.

Yuthura grinned. "I see. Judging from your lightsabers, I would venture a guess that you're another one of the Order's failed Jedi drones."

"Failed?" Revan gave a short laugh. "I didn't fail anything. I was the best Jedi in my class. Made knight without even breaking a sweat. No, I quit because the Jedi were too passive for me. I wanted more action."

"Well then, you've come to the right place. We Sith believe in controlling the Force, letting our emotions run freely, not restricting them like the Jedi preach. Emotions make us more powerful. The Jedi fear this."

"I've always had strong emotions that were difficult for me to master to the Jedi's liking."

"If you are serious about this, then I will need to take you to the headmaster of the Academy. But tell me, do you truly want to become a Sith?" Yuthura asked with a finality in her voice. Revan knew he had to be convincing.

His gaze hardened, and he looked directly into the dark eyes of the Twi'lek in front of him. "Yes. I wish to learn the ways of the Sith."

Yuthura searched his face for a long while. Finally, she made her verdict. "Come then. I will take you to Master Uthar."

Jolee and Carth had wordlessly slipped in step behind him as he followed Yuthura outside of the settlement and into the harsh desert outside. They walked down a ramp, crossed a relatively small distance, and quickly found themselves outside the doors of the Academy. The guard, upon seeing Yuthura, stepped aside and let them pass, keeping his weapon at the ready as the four of them continued on. Revan's thoughts suddenly turned to Bastila as he heard the stone doors scrape shut behind him, and he felt frustration welling within him. He felt like this was a waste of his time, playing Sith, while he could be looking for the Star Map. His logic kicked this train of thought away, pointing out the fact that he _was_ looking for the Star Map, as it was likely to be somewhere the Sith knew about.

He was brought out of his reverie as they entered a large circular room in which many young people like himself were standing around a single man. Revan assumed this man must've been the Master Uthar that Yuthura had been referring to. He found that he was right, as the Twi'lek woman addressed the man as such.

"Master Uthar, I have brought you a pupil in which I see great potential," she said, giving a small, reverential bow.

Uthar's yellow-grey eyes turned upon Revan, meeting his green ones. A mutual declaration of respect passed between the two men, and Uthar spoke, his voice emanating in deep, soothing tones that one would attribute to a father figure.

"Ah, yes. The students you bring me all have such raw energy bursting to be let out, but this one...this one is controlled. I sense very little untamed power in him. Interesting."

Revan once again slipped into his own mind as Uthar's voice seemed to lull him into yet another trance while he said a small something about each student in the ring around him. When Uthar was done speaking, a guard approached Revan and jabbed his gun at the two men behind him, Jolee and Carth.

"Who're they?" he asked roughly.

"Them?" Revan said, glancing behind him. "Ignore them. They're just slaves."

Carth hid an indignant snort in a cough, and he felt Jolee's glare on the back of his neck. The guard, however, noticed none of this.

"Oh. Right then. Your quarters are down there, by the way."

Revan was led to his personal bunk by another guard, then left alone. With a look of apology, he turned to his friends.

"Slaves, huh?" Jolee said with mock indignancy.

"Sorry, but it was the fastest thing I could come up with. Just go with it if it means they don't care you're with me," Revan replied.

"You seem calmer than before," Jolee observed.

"Do you watch everyone else this incessantly too?" Revan exclaimed. "I do feel calmer than earlier. I think I just needed time to clear my head a bit. And there was something about that girl in the cantina, something in her eyes that gave me hope. Made me feel like I could do something to make up for all of the terrible things I did when I was Darth Revan."

"Good. You're going to need that hope and that calm here. I can already feel the Dark Side oozing out of every damn crack in this place."

"Really?" Revan asked, reaching out to the Force. "Hmm...you're right. It's not as strong as I would've expected though."

"It's because they're not true Sith," Jolee said.

Revan felt a flash of white-hot pain sear across his brain, and he sank to the floor. Jumbled images were exploding across his vision; red-skinned humanoids...dark robes...a massive temple...grey-skinned warriors...chanting...dark alchemy...a horrifically disfigured face – then nothing. It had stopped, and Revan was able to see the faces of his friends, looking deeply concerned and a little uneasy.

"Mind explaining what that was about?" Carth asked as he helped Revan up.

"I-I have no idea," Revan answered shakily. "Memories, I think. There's something important about "True Sith." I just got random images though."

"It'll be like that until your mind learns how to sort all of your memories out," Jolee said. "Hopefully, that will be soon."

"Yeah. I've had enough of these "pass out on the floor and die" sessions for my liking. How long did that take?"

"Maybe a minute," Carth offered. Jolee nodded in agreement.

"Right. That was a wasted minute. We need to get moving and find that Star Map. C'mon," Revan led the way, going down the long hallway that extended away from his room.

"You there, wait. I wish to speak with you."

Revan halted as he heard Yuthura's voice at his right. He found it odd that her bunk was apparently only one down from his.

"Yes?"

"I didn't catch your name in the cantina," she said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. That was rude of me not to introduce myself. I'm Vincent," Revan replied, extending one of his large hands. Yuthura grasped it and shook it, one eyebrow rising at the firmness in his grip.

"All business already?"

"I have pressing matters that need my attention. I apologize if I seem somewhat distracted," Revan said tactfully.

Yuthura shrugged, ignoring whatever his "pressing matters" were. It didn't concern her in the least. "I believe you have the most promise out of the potentials, and I intend to make sure that you are still alive for the final test," she stated. "In order to get there, however, you must gain prestige with Master Uthar."

"Lovely," he muttered. "And just how would I go about getting this prestige?"

"You can start by learning the Sith Code. If you would like, I will teach it to you."

"Alright then. What does it say?" Revan asked, trying to assess her motives. He could sense that Yuthura liked him for more than just his 'potential.'

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me," the Twi'lek recited.

Revan mused over the code for a moment, finding that it came back to him as soon as she began to say it.

"Do you need help understanding any of that?" Yuthura asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"Hmm? No, I think I've got it. Is there anything else I should know before I try and get this 'prestige' that I need?"

"No, but there is something that you need to know about your final test. It will take place in the tomb of Naga Sadow, and you will have to fight Master Uthar." Here her voice gained a conspiratorial tone. "I am planning to poison Uthar so he will be weaker during your test. When you kill him, I will become the new leader of this Academy, and I promise to show you favor for helping me with this."

Inside, Revan was only somewhat shocked. He was once a Sith, and the memories of his old ways were coming back to him easily as he was immersed deeper and deeper into the greed and deception of the people here. Outside, he showed indifference, if not some amusement.

"I don't believe you, but I have nothing to lose. Knock yourself out."

"You should go now and try and gain some prestige. Let Uthar know when you think you've mastered the Code. If you need help with anything, I'll try and answer as best I can," Yuthura said dismissively, but Revan had the distinct feeling that she truly mean to help him. He wondered about this, as she was a Sith, and not inclined in the least to show anyone favor.

As soon as he walked away, a plan began to form itself in Revan's mind. What was to stop him from telling Uthar about Yuthura's plan? But more importantly, when he did tell him, and he would, how would Uthar react? Revan decided to play it safe and check to see how Uthar responded to him when he approached him with knowledge of the Sith Code. Which he was about to do now.

Entering the large circular room once more, Revan spotted Uthar's kneeling form in the middle of the floor. Approaching confidently but respectfully, he addressed the man before him.

"Master Uthar," he said in a firm but quiet tone.

Uthar's yellow-grey eyes opened unhurriedly and gazed up at Revan for a few seconds before becoming level with his as the Sith Master rose to his feet.

"Ah yes, Yuthura's latest pupil. What is it you need?"

Revan was once again struck by the smooth, soothing voice that Uthar possessed. It was so calm, so serene that he found it hard to associate this man with the evil of the Sith.

"I know the Code."

"Do you now? Very well, recite after me: Peace is a lie, there is only..."

"Passion."

"Through passion I gain..."

"Strength."

"Through strength I gain..."

"Power."

"Through power I gain..."

"Victory."

"Through victory..."

"My chains are broken."

Uthar did not speak, so Revan finished the line.

"The Force shall free me."

"Very good. But there is a difference between simply knowing the Code, and understanding it. I will now question you on part of the Code. True or false: Victory by any means is acceptable."

"False," Revan answered immediately.

Uthar raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. One more. True or false: There is nothing worse than love."

Revan felt a familiar tightness in his chest as he thought of Bastila once more, and the hollow ache inside of him seemed to throb even worse with the pain that was still residing deep in his lower gut.

"Are you alright? You look quite pale," Uthar said, though he showed little emotion.

"I'm fine. For the answer to your question..." Revan thought about what the Sith believed, and how they viewed the Force before continuing. "I say false."

"_Very_ good. But am not yet impressed with you enough to declare you the winner. Come back when you have accomplished more."

Uthar resumed his kneeling position without further warning, and Revan knew better than to bother him. The combination of the feeling of nausea, the guilt of letting Malak take Bastila, and the emptiness that he felt without her were all beginning to show on Revan's face. His skin had paled some from the effort to ignore the pain and sickness, and his eyes were darkened, partially from the anger he felt towards Malak for hurting Bastila, and partially because of his guilt.

"Maybe you should rest a little," Carth suggested.

Revan shook his head violently as they walked in the direction of Yuthura. "No time," he grunted. Instead of taking the hallway that contained the second in command and his bunk, Revan turned one hallway before.

"Where are we going?"

"Dunno. I just feel like I need to go this way," Revan replied, truly at a loss for his intentions. The Force seemed to be pulling him though, and he wasn't going to argue. They passed various people along the way, none of whom paid any attention to them, and they likewise, but Revan knew that they had not yet reached the place they were supposed to be. Finally, at the end of the hallway, a young man, just above medium height, with brown hair and light brown eyes came into view. Revan heard Carth give a strangled cry and rush forward.

"Dustil? Is that really you?"

The young man looked perplexed. "Father? What are you doing here?"

"Dustil, I thought you were dead!" Carth exclaimed, overjoyed to see his only son still alive.

"Well, you were wrong," Dustil spat coldly. "You stopped looking for me. And mother. If you would've cared, you could've found us."

Carth drew back as if slapped. "No...No! I looked for you for years! I followed all of the reports, but you never turned up. I swear!"

"Why are you here, Father?" Dustil asked jadedly.

"We're looking for a Star Map," Revan interjected. "And I'm trying to save someone close to me from the Sith."

"How did you get caught up in this?" Carth moaned, half to himself.

"I came with a friend. She was going to join the Sith, and I had nowhere else to go. I've learned from them, Father. I don't need you anymore, not like I thought I did. You were never there, and it only served to make me stronger."

"No – Dustil, I was in the war! I was going to come back to get you and your mother, you know that."

"Don't lie to my face," Dustil threatened, his hand straying for his lightsaber. Revan extended his right hand and froze the young man in place. Stepping up to him to emphasize the size difference between them, he growled in a low voice, "I would advise against that. Your father won't hurt you, but I will."

The boy smirked insolently. "You can't beat me. I'm the best lightsaber duelist in my class."

"And I'm the former Dark Lord of the Sith," Revan answered deadpan. "You shouldn't be here. You're not a Sith. Look at yourself - you're just an angry adolescent who resents his father for not being there when he needed him the most. The Sith are evil," he said, releasing Dustil from his hold on him, "while you are not."

"Prove it," he challenged.

"Fine," Revan replied coolly. "C'mon, we need to keep moving."

Revan did this for two reasons: First, the boy's impudence was a source of extreme annoyance, and second, Carth needed a distraction. He could tell that the sight of his son as a Sith was more than the older man could bear. After all, his son had become what the Republic soldier had fought against his whole life. Revan didn't look back as he spoke.

"Don't worry Carth. I'll convince your son to get out of here. I promise."

"This is your fault," he snarled.

Revan felt yet another stab of guilt at Carth's words. "I know," he replied softly. "That's why I'm going to fix it."

He stopped suddenly and leaned against the rough stone wall, wracking his brain for a way to convince Dustil to leave this place. His aggravation mounted when nothing presented itself. Resigning himself to the fact that he would just have to continue with the mission and hope a solution became apparent, Revan decided to talk to Uthar one more time. This time, the Sith Master stood before Revan spoke, having sensed his presence before the 'Jedi' entered the room.

"You seem agitated. Is there something you wish to tell me?"

For the umpteenth time, Uthar gave Revan the impression of a calm father, instructing his children in the ways that they should go. Forcing the odd affection, he was beginning to feel for this man aside, Revan collected his thoughts.

"Yes, Master Uthar. I think that it should be brought to your attention that your second in command, Yuthura, is planning to poison you before the final test."

Uthar appeared unfazed, and his heavily tattooed face stared calmly at the floor for a while. "Thank you for bringing this before me. You are wise to do so, and I award you more prestige because of it." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small data pad, typed something on it, and handed it to Revan. "Take this to Adrenas. He will know what to do with it."

"Right. Where is Adrenas?"

"To your left," Uthar stated.

"Thank you, Master," Revan replied, striding off as quickly as his body would allow. Thankfully, the excruciating pain that had marked the past few hours had subsided, and was now only a deep and pervading ache. He asked a guard which one Adrenas was upon entering the smaller circular room, and was pointed to him.

"Adrenas?" he asked.

The man turned. "Yes?"

"Master Uthar said I was to give this to you. I believe it's quite important."

And with that, Revan left. He didn't care what the data pad said because it didn't matter. His immediate goal was to tell Yuthura of his duplicity, and play off of her next. He didn't make it very far down the hallway, however, as a fire ripped through his muscles and he staggered against the cool, rough stone wall. Both Jolee and Carth were at his side at an instant, supporting him and forcing him to keep going.

"C'mon kid. You really need to shut this bond off," Jolee insisted.

Revan shook his head weakly. "I said no, and I mean it. This..." he grunted, "is my pain too."

"You're being an idiot!" Carth hissed.

"If love makes you do stupid things, then I'm a victim," he said with a feeble smile. It turned to a frown quickly and a dark cloud passed over his features. "She's weakening. I can feel it."

_Please stay strong_, he thought. _Don't make my mistake_.

"The faster we find this Star Map, the faster we help her," Carth reminded him.

"Trust me, I know. I need to get back to Yuthura and talk to her. I can walk on my own guys."

They let go of him reluctantly and were surprised to see that he was walking perfectly fine now. Revan motioned for them to stay back some as he approached Yuthura.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I told Uthar about your little coup," he said nonchalantly. "I don't think he appreciated it much."

Her eyes narrowed. "Playing both sides of the fence, huh? You're a bit reckless. I admire that," she purred. She pulled out a small, spider-like device. "Well, now that the stakes are higher, I need to get to Uthar first. This is a mild poison that's effects are delayed. Take this to Uthar's room and place it under his bed. Don't worry; it's odorless and virtually undetectable. Here's a pass card to get in."

Revan took the machine and made sure that his fingertips brushed ever so lightly against the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. There was a slight hitch in her breathing, and he knew that his touch had had the desired effect.

"Oh, I had a question as well. What other things can I do to get prestige? As you can tell, I don't know my way around here."

That was a lie. Revan vaguely remembered the layout of Korriban's Valley of the Dark Lords, and really didn't need her guidance, but he _was_ trying to feign mutual interest here, so he figured the conversation was worth it either way.

"There are some students who have gone missing recently in the Shyrack caves. Lashowe, a student here, is working on something as well. You might talk to her about it." Yuthura paused. "The tombs haven't been explored by any students. That is to say, none of them have come back alive. If you were to accomplish that, Uthar would be considerably impressed, as would I."

Revan noticed the personal interjection and sent a roguish smile in her direction. "I'll get right on that."

He turned, walked down the hallway, took a right, then a left turn to find himself where he knew he would end up: Master Uthar's room. Inserting the pass card into the slot, his eyes roved over the room before entering.

"What's up with you and the Twi'lek?" Carth asked, unsuccessfully trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.

"It's called flirting," Revan answered while taking out the device and activating it, watching as it scurried underneath the bed.

"Fidelity's a virtue, ya know."

"Please. You really think I'm that fickle? I'm only playing her so she'll help me out. But there's something about her that's different...like she doesn't belong here somehow." Revan shrugged. "Jealousy won't get you anywhere."

"I am _not_ jealous," Carth replied with mock offense. "I just don't want Bastila to hear about this later and kick your ass."

Revan laughed sadly at the memory of Bastila's fiery temper. "She would too," he murmured, noticing a footlocker at the edge of Uthar's bed. Unlatching it deftly with his foot, he bent down and retrieved a mask and a data pad. Ignoring the mask for the time being, he read the data pad and stood with a relieved look on his face.

"Here's your son's proof. Listen: 'Dustil Onasi shows much promise, but that female friend of his, Selene, is slowing him down. I have disposed of her and made it look like an accident: a nasty run in with the Tuk'ata.' What do you think of that?"

Carth snatched the data pad from Revan's hands and scanned it quickly. "We should take this back to him," he said with urgency in his voice.

"Let's go then," Revan replied, hoping that his compliance would be a salve for Carth's wounded trust. He couldn't deny that he felt a small amount of annoyance at the soldier's stubbornness, but nothing more. He knew that Carth was trying, and that's all he honestly wanted from the man. This time, the Republic pilot led the way, and Revan and Jolee followed. Revan pulled the older man back just before they reached Dustil and whispered into his ear, "Take it easy on him. He's stubborn like you, and he won't take this well."

Carth nodded, and stepped in front of his son. "I have your proof, son."

"So soon?" Dustil looked genuinely surprised. "Lemme see that," he said, grabbing at it in much the same way his father had. The young teenager's face changed from shock, to rage, then disbelief. He dropped the data pad lifelessly and stared at Revan with an open mouth.

"They...they killed her? I...she was the only reason I came. It's my fault. I shouldn't have been so lax around her. They thought it was her...and it was me...I was lazy..."

Revan's hand shot out faster than Carth and Jolee could see and slapped Dustil resoundingly across the face. "It is _not_ your fault," he ordered. "Now do you see why you shouldn't be here?"

Dustil rubbed his sore cheek and looked up at his father with a mixture of stubborn defiance and, at the same time, shame. "I'm going to go back to Telos, Father. When you're finished with whatever it is you're doing here, come look for me. Maybe...maybe we can talk."

"I'd like that," Carth said quietly as he watched his son leave the Sith Academy forever. "My God, he's a man now," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Not quite," Revan stated. "But he's getting there. He can take responsibility at least. That's always a good sign."

Carth made a noncommittal noise and took a deep breath. "Hey, uh, Revan?"

Revan, who had begun to walk again, stopped short at the sound of his name and cursed softly. "My name is _not_ Revan," he hissed. "It's Vincent."

Carth looked nonplussed for a second before he realized that it was impossible to call Revan his true name around all of these Sith. "Right. Sorry. I just wanted to say thanks for your help. My son is all I have left, but you didn't have to do that for me."

"No," Revan said, "I did. It's obvious that I have to re-earn your trust, and I'm not going to waste any time doing that. Even if you never trust me, I won't just leave you on your own."

Revan's voice was calm and gentle, not accusatory in the least, and he began to walk away again as soon as he had finished speaking. He was simply wandering now, searching the entire complex just to know where he was and what room contained what. The trio happened to chance across a room that looked disturbingly similar to a torture chamber, and Revan couldn't help but enter, as there was another student inside – one of the students that was competing against him, in fact.

The student's head whipped around at the sound of their footsteps and a disgusted look passed over his face before it resumed the indifferent gaze it held before.

"You wanna try a crack at this Mandalorian? He knows the location of a weapons cache, but he won't tell me where."

"What do I have to do for you?" Revan inquired, knowing full well that he wouldn't get off easily.

The student shook his head. "Nothing. I'm done wasting my time on him. He's not gonna break, but you're welcome to try."

The student exited the room without further notice, leaving Revan and his companions behind. The Mandalorian was in bad shape, but a defiant blaze burned behind his eyes as he met Revan's.

"You'll never get that weapons cache!" he spat hatefully.

Revan raised an eyebrow. "Who said I wanted it?"

The prisoner looked taken aback, but still suspicious. "Then why are you in here?"

"Can I get you out?" he asked, ignoring the man's question.

"I don't believe you!"

Revan closed his eyes, struggling to keep his temper under control. The combined weight of his identity, losing Bastila, and her physical pain was wearing his patience very thin.

"Look, if I had wanted to kill you or find out whatever the hell it is you know, I could've found a very painful way to do it already. Now, is there a way to get you out of here or not?"

"Well... I guess...if they think I'm dead, then they'd probably dump me," the Mandalorian confessed.

Revan stepped up to the console that the previous student had been occupying and studied it closely. It seemed to him that he needed to induce a catatonic state in the Mandalorian prisoner for him to seem even remotely deceased.

"How much should I dose you?" he asked.

"Two high doses should be enough, I think."

Revan punched the buttons and watched as the computer applied the doses. "Working?"

The Mandalorian nodded weakly, the drugs already taking a heavy effect. "Thanks. I owe you one. The cache is in a secret compartment in my ship. Crew quarters, third bu..."

He passed out before finishing his sentence, but the former Dark Lord had a good idea of what he had been meaning to say: Crew quarters, third bunk. The Force signature of the student who had been in before them suddenly spiked and Revan whirled to see him standing in the doorway with a malicious grin on his face.

"Well you were a help weren't you? I'll just tell Master Uthar where that weapons cache is, and he'll award me more prestige. And I'll let him know that the Mandalorian isn't dead."

Revan's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I won't let you do that," he growled.

The student, who wasn't a small man by any means, stepped up to Revan and glared directly back at him. "Oh? Is that so?"

Revan regretted challenging this man, knowing that the outcome of their inevitable fight would not be good. "Yeah. It is."

The student's arm shot out suddenly, the small blade he was wielding catching the side of Revan's throat as the 'Jedi' feinted to the right, thrusting his left fist out and grabbing the student's wrist. Twirling, he brought his right shoulder underneath the man's outstretched arm, and simultaneously pulled his enemy's wrist down while he shoved his shoulder up against the man's elbow. He heard a loud crack ring out like a shot, and the student dropped the dagger that he had been clutching, yanking his arm back and cradling his now broken elbow.

"You wanna try that again?" Revan said darkly, picking up the small blade. The student shook his head vigorously in a vehement 'No.' "Get out."

The man obeyed, scurrying away whimpering. Revan sighed and pocketed the weapon that he was holding. "Stupid people are a danger to themselves," he stated. "I hope that Mandalorian makes it out alright."

"You did a good thing for him," Jolee said sincerely while Revan wiped the blood off of his neck, gazing at the red substance almost as if he had never seen it before.

"Do you know if I was like this before I fell?"

Jolee's mouth hung open for a time, caught off guard by Revan's blunt question.

"From what I know, you were just as compassionate and good hearted as you are now. Why kid?"

"I don't remember that yet," Revan said, shrugging. "I don't remember people. Just things and places."

"The Jedi Council might have put an even stronger block on the memories of your relationships on purpose. And I'm pretty sure they put as strong of a restraint on your memory of yourself as they could."

"Yeah...but I do remember one person. She's an old woman, but I think she was a Jedi. She had a green lightsaber, I remember that vividly...and her robes were brown. Her hair was brown but graying, and I don't get the feeling she was exceptionally kind."

Jolee formed a mental picture of this woman that Revan described, but couldn't place a finger on who it was.

"And you can't remember her face?"

Revan shook his head. "No. Just that she looked worn...like she had been through a lot. It frustrates me because I feel like I had a special bond with her. Like she was a mentor or something."

"Your Master maybe?"

"Maybe..." he trailed. "Just forget it," he finished, waving a hand to dismiss the whole thing.

Jolee knew of Revan's Master, Kreia, and he wondered if that was who he was remembering. Mentally shrugging, he took Revan's advice and forgot about it. Meanwhile, the young 'Jedi' was mulling over this new development in his mind. When Jolee had said 'Master', something had clicked in his memory and the picture had become a little bit clearer. He still didn't know who this old woman was though, and that bothered him to no end. Revan cursed under his breath as his wrists and ankles began to burn and ache with more of an aggravating feeling than true pain. He flinched suddenly and brought a hand up to his right eye, pressing on it and feeling a splitting headache spreading through his skull.

"Bastila?"

He nodded, too tired to speak as yet another ache surged through his body, letting him know that she was being electrocuted again. Strangely enough, he was becoming accustomed to this, and he found that he retained all of his motor functions perfectly, though every ounce of his muscles was screaming for him to stop moving and rest from the distance he had been walking for the past minute. Pausing as a pair of huge doors slid open in front of him, his brain came up a few particularly choice curses in all of the various languages he knew as his eyes caught sight of a darkly clad figure and two men flanking him in the grey uniforms of the Sith.

They had made it outside to the small canyon leading to the Valley of the Dark Lords, and were staring at three men about 500 yards away. Thankful that suppressing his Force aura was as second nature to him as breathing, Revan leaned heavily against the outside rock, successfully shielding himself from view. It didn't matter much, as the three men were currently preoccupied with something in the opposite direction.

"Why'd we stop?" Carth asked.

Jolee pointed. "Them. Kid, you can't fight like this. You're being an idiot to keep this bond open."

"I know, you've told me already. I'm fine. Look." Revan pushed away from the wall and stood sturdily on his own two feet. "Hit me."

"What?" Jolee exclaimed.

"Do it. Hit me."

"No!"

"Why not? Don't think I can block you?"

"Fine!"

Jolee lashed out with a solid punch to Revan's gut, only to have it caught, stopped, and his arm twisted uncomfortably – but not painfully – behind him.

"See? I'll be alright. We're going to have to fight them sooner or later, and standing here arguing about it is wasting my time. Let's go, or turn back."

"No," Jolee said, stepping out into the sun, "let's go."

The trio set out in the narrow canyon, their only exit blocked by the three Sith who still hadn't acknowledged their presence. Revan frowned; either these Dark Jedi were arrogant or just plain stupid. He opted for the former. With eyes set forward, gaze bitter, dark and heavy, Revan never broke stride as he unclipped both of his lightsabers and ignited them in one fluid movement, twirling them once for one last test of comfort and balance. Dropping about half of his mental barriers, Revan let his power begin to flow from him and through the Force, causing the Dark Jedi to finally turn.

The leader, the one on the middle, wore black robes over black armor, and held a double-bladed blood red lightsaber. His bald head shone brightly with sweat in the hot sun, and his yellow-grey eyes, so typical of the tyros of the Dark side, stared at Revan with as much malice as the reformed Dark Lord held toward him.

"Ah, Revan. So we finally meet," he spoke, his voice deep and commanding.

Revan's equally authoritative male voice responded. "For the second time, I believe. You were on the **_Endar Spire_**. You killed Trask."

The Dark Jedi laughed. "I have failed to properly introduce myself then. I am Darth Bandon, Lord Malak's apprentice. He has taught me everything he knows, and has entrusted me with the task of disposing of you."

"Malak must really want to get rid of you then, because I promise you that you won't leave here alive," Revan replied, his voice firm and unwavering. "If you think you can defeat me, you are very sadly mistaken."

Darth Bandon's face formed a malicious smirk. "You are just as Lord Malak said: weaker in the light. Tell me, why did you redeem yourself?"

It was Revan's turn to smirk. "I haven't," he stated. "And I can assure you that I no more weaker now than I was then. If you consider me weak."

"Well, that will depend on how you fight."

"Let's find out then."

Revan expertly twirled his lightsabers, feeling his muscles easily slipping into Form X, Jar'kai. He watched impassively as Darth Bandon and his two companions activated their red lightsabers and prepared to fight. Feeling a slight nudge from Jolee through the Force, Revan knew it was time to leave. Gathering the Force around himself, he launched his body into the air and succeeded in flipping backwards the twenty meter distance that separated him from his friends just before a plasma grenade engulfed the three Sith in a ball of molten hot energy. One of the lesser Dark Jedi went down immediately, his feeble attempt to get up ended by a precise blaster shot to the head, courtesy of Carth's sniper attachment. Both Darth Bandon and the other Dark Jedi had survived, erecting Force barriers around themselves before the blast.

"I must admit," Bandon called as he walked slowly up to where Revan was, "that was a brilliantly executed tactic."

"I was the reason we won wars," Revan said deadpan, "not the leader you have now."

"Lord Malak is much stronger than you. I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did," Bandon spat.

"Stronger?" Revan laughed, the sound causing chills to run down the spines of everyone present. "Tell me he's stronger than this!" he roared, fully letting his barriers down and lunging at Bandon at the same time. The apprentice staggered backwards, both from the physical and metaphysical blows he had received almost concurrently. Revan was a blur of violet and crimson, twirling and slashing, blocking and attacking, never letting his opponent rest or become comfortable in one position for too long. He brought both of his lightsabers down in overhead strikes, and Darth Bandon thrust his lightsaber out like the bar of a T, parallel to the ground, to block with both of his blades. Revan shoved forward, brining the two enemies' faces within inches of each other.

Panting heavily, Bandon grinned again. "Lord Malak enjoyed ravaging your bitch," he purred. "As did I."

Revan's eyes widened as his pupils dilated, a fresh wave of adrenaline-fueled anger coursing through him. Growling, he shoved Bandon away and flipped backwards, kicking at the same time and catching the apprentice under the chin. His head snapped back as he stumbled away from Revan's attack, keeping his double-bladed weapon in front of him. Bandon's grin expanded as he realized that he had hit a nerve.

"She was incredible...when I didn't have to beat her down, that is. I envy the nights you two must've had."

"I never touched her," Revan said, his voice low and deadly. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Jolee fell the other Sith that had survived the blast. Bandon tried to use Force lightning on Revan while he was distracted, but the former Dark Lord simply stopped it with his two lightsabers, letting them absorb the energy.

"That's a quite a shame. Bastila has a wonderful body."

_**ZAP!**_

"That you've violated, you sick fuck!" Revan shouted, striking out at Darth Bandon again with powerful, heavy blows.

"Argh...oof!"

He had shoved his foot into the bald man's groin, sending him to his knees for a few seconds, but Bandon had rolled out of the way of Revan's next sweep. It didn't matter; Revan wasn't trying anyway. Unfortunately for him, Bandon had taken this as Revan being weaker than he really was, and he continued to taunt mercilessly, not realizing that he was bringing himself closer to his death with each word he spoke.

"Her skin is silky smooth," he stated arrogantly, enjoying the look of barely suppressed rage on Revan's face. "And she has these perfect breasts..." Bandon blocked one of Revan's attacks, "I just want to go back to the Star Forge and scre –"

He stopped and looked down in disbelief to see a violet blade of energy thrust through his abdomen. Darth Bandon blinked as his brain tried to comprehend where he had gone wrong. Revan's red lightsaber had been coming at his right side, but he had blocked that one. The violet blade...it had started out on a path to cut across him, but had changed and dropped out of his field of vision, avoiding the other half of his double-bladed lightsaber, easily piercing his armor and flesh. The last thing that Darth Bandon saw was Revan's face, the pain behind his eyes, and the regret etched on his features before the hum of a lightsaber and then nothing.

Jolee could sense the pain coming from inside of Revan through the Force, and it nearly caused him to take a step back. The guilt and the torment that the young man held inside was immense, and Jolee feared for the well-being of his friend. Revan had yet to remember anything he had done, and he had done many horrible things; Jolee didn't know if the man could take that without breaking. But as suddenly as Revan's pain had increased, it receded again to some place deep within him that Jolee could not touch with the Force.

"Revan," he said, able to call him by his real name since no one else was around. The look he received from his companion prevented him from speaking, though he wished to say something, anything, that was comforting.

"You know me Jolee," Revan said quietly. "I'll deal with this on my own."

The older Jedi didn't bother to argue, knowing that Revan was right. If anyone could take a burden like this, it would be him – and he would come out stronger because of it. Carth just shook his head when Jolee glanced his way, expressing the helplessness that they both felt in one gesture. Their friend was determined to do this on his own, and there was nothing they could say to change that.

Revan felt awed as he passed under the massive pillars that slanted over to make an entrance to the Valley of the Dark Lords. A myriad of students at various dig sites milled around, talking with one another, working, or taking a small respite from the brutally hot sun. Revan took a brief moment to look around him at the massive statues that dotted the barren landscape, all seeming to depict humanoid forms in bowing positions. Four tombs, two on each side of him, were visible, and various plasteel cylinders and metal boxes sat in front of them. None of the students seemed to want anything to do with them, however. Remembering that Yuthura had told him that the tomb of Naga Sadow was not accessible right now, Revan made a note to avoid it. Walking to his right, the first tomb he came upon was the tomb of Ajunta Pall. He opened the doors and waited as they slid apart, stepping inside once they were done moving.

When the doors slid shut behind them, Revan was immediately immersed in darkness, his eyes not accustomed to the dim lighting. Using the Force until his sight cleared, he managed to avoid the debris and mines that littered the floor. Two Tuk'ata attacked the group, but between two Jedi and a skilled Republic soldier, they posed an almost pathetic threat. Running a hand through his hair, which still managed to stick straight up like it was gelled, even without his help; Revan found that it was covered in dust. Pausing, he looked around and realized that a steady blanket of dust was falling from every crack and rock in the ceiling, coating him, his friends, and everything else in the tomb in a grey snow. Ignoring this small nuisance, Revan noticed a bridge in front of him, spanning a rather large gap, blocked by an obelisk. To the right of the bride, on a another long pillar of solid ground, four attack droids slept, deceptively calm. His brain began to calculate the situation, and he approached the obelisk cautiously. Opening the small compartment it held he found nothing; drawing his lightsaber, Revan tapped it against the obelisk and wasn't surprised when it didn't slice through the stone. Deactivating his blade and replacing it on his belt, he studied the problem.

"Hmm...there's nothing _in_ the obelisk...but maybe..." he muttered to himself. Taking out a grenade, Revan armed it and placed it in the compartment, jogging back to where his friends were – an already safe distance. With a thundering explosion made all the louder by the echoing, cavernous walls, the four attack droids sprung to life and powered up their shields.

"Well crap," he grunted. Scanning the room once more, Revan spotted a lever at the other end of the bridge. "Hey, c'mon!"

Sprinting across the narrow stone passage, the trio skidded to a halt and took cover behind a large chunk of stone that had fallen from the ceiling. Revan smacked the lever as they ran by, and a succession of four explosions informed him that the lever had indeed controlled the droids. Helping Carth and Jolee up, Revan led the way into another hallway of the tomb that branched right and ended with a door.

Revan felt odd when he caught sight of this door, an invisible hand pulling at him to enter the room beyond. His curiosity bested him, and he opened the door, feeling an immense sadness strike him as he did so. Confused but not about to turn back, Revan stepped over the threshold and walked up to the sarcophagus that housed Ajunta Pall's remains. The outer shell of the sarcophagus slid down and away as he approached, leaving the real coffin for all to view. Revan pulled the two doors open slowly, seeing first a decayed, skeletal body, and then three swords. Perplexed, he retrieved all three of them, handing one to Jolee and one to Carth, keeping the third one in his own hands. The trio felt a chill sweep through the room, and they all turned toward the only exit to the room – the door they had just come through – to find a ghostly apparition standing before them.

"Too long...too long in the cold and the dark. I am disturbed again? A human..." the spirit said mournfully.

"Tread carefully. This a spirit full of the Force, and I sense much sorrow and regret in him. Watch your words," Jolee whispered in his left ear.

"Do...I know you? It seems as if we have met before..." the spirit trailed.

"Ah...I don't believe we've ever met," Revan replied.

"Oh really?" the blue apparition said sadly. "You are strong in the Force; it is bright within you. You remind me of someone I knew long ago."

"Who, or what, are you?" Revan asked rather bluntly.

"I...had a name once. Ajunta Pall. That was my name. I was one of many, many who defied and left, betrayed and fell."

"What do you mean betrayed?"

"We were the first to break free, to deny the teachings of our Jedi Masters. We hid from them...surely you can see what we did? They did not destroy us...we destroyed ourselves."

"You are an ancient Sith Lord, are you not?"

Ajunta looked up with surprise, his eyes, had they not been a shimmering blue like the rest of him, would have been yellow-grey and full of shock. "Has it been so long that I am to be called 'ancient'? Oh...tell me, did the Sith die out?" he inquired.

"The dark side will always thrive. You must know that."

"Yes," he responded darkly. "After all this time and yet we still have not learned our lesson. Our secrets we took to our graves...and I cannot...cannot remember."

"Was it a Star Map?" Revan asked, refusing to let fickle hope rise within him.

"A map...maybe. I do not know. I cannot be of more help on this. The only thing I have left...my sword. I poured all of my pride into that sword. It is buried with me. But...after all of this time...I do not remember which the right blade is."

"Pardon?" Revan was lost.

"Oh, I am sorry. I want you to take my sword away from here."

"What do you want me to do with it?"

"If you are wise," Ajunta warned, "you will not keep it. But as I said, I do not remember which sword is mine."

"If I pick the wrong sword?" Revan asked hesitantly.

"Then you will...die. It must be this way."

"Right. It's always that way," Revan murmured. "The statue?"

Ajunta nodded. "I wish you well."

Revan turned, walking to the statue of Ajunta Pall and inspecting it. One hand was extended, the one he would place the sword in, and he paid particular attention to that, but it yielded nothing. The sword that he was currently holding was a vibroblade that had an energy buffer around the blade and was cool to the touch. He switched it with the one that Jolee was holding: a silver blade that shined brightly as he grasped it, its hilt becoming almost painfully hot. A fiery eye was emblazoned on the side. Shaking his head, Revan took the double-bladed sword that Carth was holding and noticed that it was notched. As soon as he touched it, he felt dark energy pulsing through it, alive within it, and he knew it was the blade of Ajunta Pall. Stepping up on the statue, he placed the sword in the outstretched hand and heard it "**_clink"_** into place.

"Ah yes...that is my blade," Ajunta said from across the room. "Please, take it away from here."

"I will do as you ask," Revan said, "but I wish to know something. Why are you so sad? I would've expected you to be angry and vengeful."

Ajunta's mask-covered face still managed to show lament. "I am...regretful for all of the things I have done. They torment me...and I cannot escape this hell."

"Surely you can atone for your sins," Revan stated uncertainly. "I mean...I am," he said quietly.

"You?" Ajunta asked. "What have you done? I sense no darkness in you."

Revan blinked and gave the spirit an odd look. "That can't be possible. I was Dark Lord of the Sith less than a year ago. I was nearly killed, but a woman saved my life. I was brainwashed by the Jedi Order, and sent on a mission to retrieve Star Maps to find the location of something called the Star Forge. I'm still on that mission, and I only recently found out that I was Revan, my true identity. And you say you sense no darkness in me?"

Ajunta shook his head slowly. "None, young one. And I know darkness. There is a taint within you – a shadow – but your heart is pure, as is your soul."

Revan opened his mouth and closed it several times, unable to think of a response.

"It that so surprising to you?"

"I...well I just assumed that I had...I mean, I was _Darth Revan_," he emphasized.

"Do you know of your past? There is much confusion within you...the Force swirls tempestuously around you like a storm," Ajunta observed.

Revan shook his head. "No, I don't remember anything that I've done. Nothing of great importance, at least. Other than finding a few Star Maps, and visions of myself punishing my apprentice...and an old woman, nothing."

"That is not all you have seen, I believe. I have been around long enough to hear the lies of men. You do not hide much from me, Revan," Ajunta said gently.

Revan was surprised and slightly scared at the spirit's ability to see right through him. But why did he need to know about his visions?

"With all due respect spirit, why are my memories relevant?"

"Because I feel that you are instrumental in this time period. Only those with a blinding affinity to the Force tend to change or make history. There are exceptions to that rule, but very few. And you may call me Ajunta, young one."

"Alright then. The most recent vision I had was very short, and didn't make much sense to me at all. I saw a red-skinned people, humanoid but alien, an incredible temple on what looked like a beach world, grey-skinned aliens in front of the temple chanting, black robes – I don't know whose, some sort of dark magic, and then a face..." Revan shuddered and stopped.

"A face?" Ajunta pressed.

"It...I _think_ it was something near human. Its nose was cut off though, almost like a snout...and its teeth were razor sharp like animals. It had scars everywhere...part of the skin over its head was pulled back from the skull – I have no idea how – and the last thing I remember was feeling like I was freezing cold when I looked at that face."

"This was a race of people, you think?"

"I don't know. It's possible."

"These 'red-skinned humanoids' you speak of, did they have long tentacle-like beards?"

Revan took a breath, thinking. "I think I saw two different kinds of species. One of them did have beards, yes. The others...they were huge beast like things."

Ajunta looked at Revan gravely from behind his mask. "The first race you speak of is the Sith. True Sith, as they were before interbreeding with the fallen Jedi."

"True Sith?" Revan interrupted. "That's what triggered the memory," he muttered. "Please...I'm sorry. Continue."

"The second race though...I am not quite sure. It was the work of one of my successors, no doubt, but how long after me, I do not know."

"You said earlier that you wanted me to take your sword from the tomb. Why?" Revan asked, changing subjects.

"I wish to become one with the Force, but I cannot do so while my sword still rests in my tomb. The darkness traps me like an animal," Ajunta explained sorrowfully.

"You can come back to the light, Ajunta. No one is condemned to that kind of darkness forever."

"I...do you think...? Surely, it is possible. It has to be..." Ajunta rambled to himself. Turning back to Revan, he gave the young man a relieved smile. "I thank you for what you have done for me. Please, take my sword and go. I feel we will speak again...though when, I am not certain."

Revan retrieved Ajunta Pall's blade from the statue and turned back to bid farewell to the spirit, only to find him already gone. Walking gradually out of the dusty, dimly lit burial room, Revan heard Ajunta's voice one last time.

"I wish you luck on your quest, Revan. Your love for her is strong, yet she does not know it. She will need you soon. Be strong."

Revan's head snapped around to stare behind him, but all he saw were Jolee and Carth's faces, both looking at him with an expression that suggested they thought he had finally lost it.

"You didn't hear that?" he asked slowly.

"Great – now he's schizophrenic!" Carth exclaimed.

"I am not!" Revan snapped. "Did you hear it or not?"

"We didn't hear anything," Jolee said with an apologetic shrug.

The former Sith Lord turned without a word, lost in his own thoughts as he navigated the corridors to the tomb's exit. He almost didn't notice the man standing just inside the entrance, seemingly waiting for something.

"So you've finally managed to retrieve Ajunta Pall's blade. That is sure to gain considerable prestige in Master Uthar's eyes," the man, whom Revan recognized as Shaardan, said. "And that is why I'll be taking it from you."

"Like hell you will," Revan said resolutely.

"Now, now, there is no need for violence. Just hand over the sword."

"No," Revan insisted roughly. "Go raid your own tomb. I didn't come here just to do your dirty work for you."

"Give me the sword," Shaardan growled menacingly.

"You're not getting that blade. Sorry."

Revan tried to walk past Shaardan, but was stopped by the snap-hiss of the Sith student igniting a lightsaber and thrusting it in his path. Closing his eyes for a moment, Revan tried desperately to keep himself calm.

"You don't want to do that," he warned quietly.

"I won't have to if you'll just hand over the sword."

"I already said no, and I don't persuade easily."

Shaardan's face twisted with anger and he slashed at Revan who sidestepped the swipe and grabbing Shaardan's wrist, twisted it back around to point at its owner, pushing forward and impaling the student on his own blade. Shaardan gurgled unintelligibly as he slumped to the floor; Revan watched him die with an air of detached sadness.

Revan couldn't take it anymore – he had to rest. The trip back to the Academy seemed to take ages, and he carefully avoided Uthar, not willing to tell the Sith Master about Ajunta's blade. Placing all of his new weapons in the footlocker at the edge of his bunk, Revan wearily stripped of his armor. Carth and Jolee had their own beds in the same section as his, and they retired as well. The memory of Darth Bandon's look of disbelief as he stared down at Revan's violet lightsaber jutting out of his stomach flooded his mind as he stared up at the stone ceiling. Ajunta's last statement to him echoed in his brain as he slipped off into unconsciousness, and he prayed that he would be in time to save Bastila.


	15. Chapter 15

Recommended song(s): Did My Time by Korn for Revan's feelings, starting in the Tomb of Marko Ragnos. For the rest of the chapter, Remember by Disturbed.

READ BELOW PLEASE! (AT LEAST NUMBERS 1 AND 2)

Okay, let's see here...(1) I changed Revan's appearance somewhat. In Chapter 8, I said that he had "a light dusting of hair on his chest, thinning into a straight line that ran enticingly down his stomach and into his pants." Yeah. **That's gone now.** I decided to have something happen to his body, and having chest hair just wouldn't really work with that...and the fact that I don't particularly _like_ chest hair in the first place is another reason. Dunno why I did it, but whatever. It's gone now. (2) What happens to Revan in the shyrack caves should be a slight indicator of what's really happening to Bastila, kay? So don't give me any more review on the psychological effects of physical trauma, please. (3) More of a filler chapter than anything else, no real romance or anything, so if you're looking for that, sorry. Just more of Revan's memories and introspection, and an itty bitty anger problem later. Blame Korriban - the Dark side's saturated the whole friggin place.

* * *

Revan stared unblinkingly at the ceiling, his mind a tumultuous storm of emotions and memories. He had slept for maybe two or three hours before be awakened by a particularly graphic memory of his past. **Malachor V..., **he thought, **it was a bloodbath**. **And that Jedi, her eyes were so intense – she looked at me with complete trust. Who was she?** It was the first actual person that Revan had remembered fully, and it bothered him greatly. What was so important about that woman that he would remember her and no one else? He also felt an inexplicable comfort when thinking of this female Jedi, a sense of ease and happiness that spread throughout his core at her memory. 

The strange thing was, when he looked at her, he knew her body. He knew how she was going to shift, the little nuances that made her movement unique to her, the way her small, athletic frame slid gracefully into combat or whatever task was demanded of it. Revan shook his head, wondering why he was thinking such things. Another perplexing situation was brought to his attention: when he thought of this admittedly beautiful woman, he felt a dull ache of desire pound through his blood. **Did I have a lover?** he thought to himself. If he did, he probably wouldn't have remembered her anyway. He had no recollection of his family, so any friends or relationships he might have had were a long shot.

Just then, Revan heard the distinct sound of soft footsteps on the stone floor, as if someone were trying to conceal their progress. Not bothering to grab a weapon or a shirt – his pants and shoes were still on, and the small dagger he had gained the day before was embedded firmly in a holster on his right boot – he stole out into the dark corridor, using the Force to penetrate the blackness and guide him to the other somnambulist until his eyes had a chance to adjust. From the sound of the footfalls, Revan guessed his quarry to be female in gender, close to five feet seven inches, and weighing about one hundred and thirty-five pounds.

He was right.

A woman's slender figure came into view, and Revan silently increased his pace, making sure to keep his Force aura quite hidden so as not to alert to student he was pursuing. When he was less than five feet behind her, he unsheathed his small knife and sprang, covering her mouth with his large paw and pinning her against the wall with just enough force to discourage a struggle. Revan grinned, knowing exactly who it was he had just captured, her blue eyes blazing with aggravated fury as she futilely attempted to break his powerful grip.

"Now Lashowe, what's a pretty girl like you doing wandering the complex at this hour of the night? You have no idea what kind of sickos could be out..." he said humorously.

"Like you?" she hissed when he removed his hand from her mouth. "Let me go!"

"Tell me what you're doing," he demanded, both of them still whispering.

"Not until you get off me, you hairy ape!"

Revan stepped back. "I am not hairy!" he protested indignantly.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at his childishness. Then, remembering that she had a mission to complete, changed her demeanor.

"Well I'm glad that you were able to sneak up on me. Now get out of my way – I have business to attend to."

"Nuh-uh," Revan said, grabbing her wrist and holding it tightly. "You still haven't told me what you're doing up at this hour. Fully decked out at that." He eyed her apparel and lightsaber for added effect.

"I could ask you the same thing," Lashowe snapped, trying, again unsuccessfully to break his grip. "Would you let me go!"

"I couldn't sleep. I'm used to it," Revan said, answering her unasked question. "Your turn."

Lashowe sighed, giving up. "Fine. I'm trying to get a Sith holocron. Happy?"

"Where is this holocron?" he pressed, much to her annoyance.

"Why should I tell you?"

"We could work together," he suggested with a shrug. "It'd be easier."

She hesitated. What was he trying to pull? "I don't think so. Why would you want to work with me?"

He gave her a roguish grin that was made all the more devilish by the dim light that was playing on his face, courtesy of a the moonlight that was filtering through a small hole in the ceiling. "I've always had a weakness for beautiful women..." he trailed; his eyes, though mysteriously green in the darkness, were sparkling with anticipation of an adventure.

"I don't know..." Lashowe said uncertainly. He seemed to mean well, but she had been tricked before. He didn't say anything, just stood there, looking at her intently. Finally, she relented. In all truth, she probably needed his help anyway – besides, nobody said she had to do the tasks by herself. She just wouldn't mention him when telling Uthar about it...but then he would need to be dealt with. A plan began to form itself in her mind.

"Fine. I'm going to go make the preparations. Meet me outside of Tulak Hord's tomb, and be ready. We're going to have to fight the Queen tuk'ata of a pack – she ate the holocron."

Revan turned and walked away without a word.

He was _not_ hairy, dammit.

- - -

Five minutes later, two figures were outside of the Academy and in the Valley of the Dark Lords, one kneeling and the other walking. The kneeling figure looked up sharply as the second one approached.

"Shouldn't be long now. I'm calling her out."

"Great," he muttered. Revan could honestly say that he didn't really want to fight this tuk'ata; female pack leaders were even more ferocious than their male counterparts. But hey, if it got him prestige, then it was one step closer to getting off of this barren rock of a planet. He listened to Lashowe chanting and felt his thoughts slip elsewhere...to Bastila. When he looked back on the past day and the pain that he had felt, he noticed that it was not only muted, but it was twisted in a way as well, as if there was something wrong about it. Before he had a chance to speculate further, Lashowe's voice brought him back to the present.

"Here she comes!"

Lashowe was partially right – the Queen tuk'ata _was_ approaching, just not alone. Two other feral looking tuk'ata were flanking her as well. One of these creatures launched itself directly at Revan, only to be cleaved in two by the 'Jedi's' violet lightsaber. The Queen tuk'ata also had a fix on him, and snarled menacingly as she slowly circled him, her orange eyes glowing with a malicious light. She was much bigger than the other tuk'ata that Revan had seen, at least eight feet long, and her black coat blended with the night, constraining him to relying upon the Force to see her properly. He immediately noticed the huge claws protruding from her massive paws, easily six inches and dangerously sharp. The daggers in her mouth gleamed in the moonlight as she continued to growl at him, completely ignoring Lashowe.

"What's it doing?" she called, irritated. The other tuk'ata was dead as well, its head missing; Lashowe hadn't had much trouble with that.

"I don't know," he answered. "I think it wants to kill _me_."

"Brilliant," he heard her mutter. Revan knew she was referring to his stating the obvious, and he could've cared less. Right now, he was more concerned with keeping the sharp objects that the Queen tuk'ata possessed _away_ from him – very far away. It faked a lunge at him, and he reacted, bringing his lightsabers up quickly and jabbing them in her direction to keep her at bay. He could've sworn he saw a grin form on the creature's twisted face, amused at his edginess. Suddenly, Revan felt angry. This was wasting his time, screwing around like this, and it was keeping him from leaving this rock and getting to Bastila.

With a growl of his own, Revan ran directly at the Queen, thrusting one lightsaber in her face as he flipped over her, slashing downward with his other to try and hit her back. Both hits scored, but not fatally; Revan had taken out the right eye of the tuk'ata and seared a thin patch of flesh on her back. He landed in a crouched position, one fisted hand on the ground for balance, the other keeping his blade in front of his body. The Queen had already whirled, her hackles raised and her lips curled back in a furious roar. She leapt at him, tackling him before he had a chance to react, knocking both of his lightsabers away and slashing three deep gashes on the left side of his face, one from just below his ear to his jaw, another from just in front of his ear almost to his mouth, and the last wound running from his temple, through his eyebrow and down across his eye and nose, ending just below his right eye.

Revan ignored the burning pain in his face and the dizziness that assaulted his senses as he scrambled to his feet, calling both of his weapons back to his hands. He tried to shove the tuk'ata away with the Force, but she didn't budge. He cursed, now aware that tuk'ata's were quite resistant to Force powers.

"Hey, Lashowe, not to be rude, but I sure as _hell_ could use a little help!" he barked at the female he was with.

Finally snapping out of the 'stupor' she had been in during the whole battle, Lashowe charged the Queen from behind, slicing deeply into her unprotected backside and severing the creature's left hamstring. The tuk'ata turned its attention to Lashowe, snapping at her with its powerful jaws, and Revan seized the opportunity he had been presented with. Throwing his crimson blade at the animal, it impaled itself in the right side of the Queen's breast, knocking her backwards some. Revan gathered the Force around himself and shot up into the air, his violet lightsaber raised high above his head, and plummeted down with as much velocity as he could muster, slamming his blade through the tuk'ata's skull and pinning her to the ground. He slumped to the ground as the animal writhed in its last throes, blackness clinging to the edges of his vision from the amount of blood he had lost. He saw Lashowe gut the Queen tuk'ata and reach a hand in – a hand that emerged with a Sith holocron.

"I'll just take this back to Uthar," she said, her voice maliciously gleeful.

"No...wait. We'll...we'll take it back...together. Just lemme get up," Revan said thickly, trying to get to his feet. Lashowe walked over to where he was and stood above him, looking at him for a long while. With a scowl, she kicked him back down into the dirt.

"While I appreciate the help, I'll be taking the credit for this one."

"Bitch..." he groaned as she walked away. Lashowe stopped, turning slowly.

"_What_ did you just call me?"

Revan smiled forbiddingly, some of his strength returning as he lay on the ground. "You heard me," he replied.

She stomped back over to his prone figure and pointed a threatening finger in his face. "I wasn't going to kill you, but I might change my mind. Your charm won't get you very far with me."

Revan's dark grin widened. "Please. You would've slept with me if I had asked."

Even in the faint light of the moon, he could see the blush that spread across her cheeks. She kicked him again, this time out of embarrassment and anger.

"Asshole."

The familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber halted her progress, a violet blade of energy burning the air just behind her neck, the heat rippling off of it in waves.

"You will not be going back alone."

"That was never specified in the plan," she said, turning to face him again with eyes narrowed. Lashowe had to look up – he had gotten to his feet in the time it had taken her to turn around to walk away and leave him.

"The plan's changed," he growled. "We go back together, or we don't go back until one of us is incapacitated."

She ignited her red lightsaber and smacked his violet one away from her face.

"Then one of us dies," she said, dropping into a defensive stance. Revan suppressed the urge to slap her, instead resorting to gripping the hilt of his weapon with more force than needed.

"You're making a mistake," he warned. "I don't want to kill you."

"Too bad I can't say the same," she replied, making a quick jab at him but missing.

Lashowe's back was to the steep cliff that dropped off abruptly from the dig site, and he noticed this immediately. Conserving his energy, he slowly inched closer to her, waiting until he was within easy striking distance to make his move. Then, without a moment's hesitation, he kicked his right foot out, crushing her left kneecap. As she buckled, Revan grabbed her weapon hand, her right, with his left and shoved his lightsaber into her chest, pushing his blade through her heart. Her blue eyes went wide and dulled, a look of shock etched on her face as she died.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, deactivating his lightsaber and holding her as she fell to the ground. Retrieving his other weapon and returning to her body, he picked it up and silently dumped it over the precipice. He had known from her eyes that she would not have listened to him any more than she would have jumped off of the cliff behind her, but it still frustrated him that he was forced to take her life, all for a petty holocron. Picking up the object with a grunt of disgust, Revan placed it inside of his small pack and began the trek back to the Academy. His body did not want to go that far, however, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious as soon as his head hit the dirt.

- - -

"Hey...d'you think he's dead?"

"No, man. He's just seriously out of it. Look at the side of his face – he got it good. Probly from that big ass tuk'ata over there."

"Yeah, probly..."

Revan groaned and feebly slapped at the hands that were irritating the open wound on the left side of his head.

"_Go away_," he threatened, his green eyes, squinting from the glare of Horuset, Korriban's sun, coming to settle on two athletic-looking young men – Sith students by the look of their uniforms.

"What's up with this?" one of them asked, holding up the holocron that Revan had bled for. Scowling, the former Sith Lord tried to grab it from the kid, but it was snatched away from his hand.

"Looks like it's important," the other student said with a grin. "Told ya."

"Yeah, shut up," the first Sith snapped. "So what is it?" he asked, his attention refocusing on Revan.

"A holocron from my wife," he wheezed, his back suddenly hurting more than it had the night before.

"From your wife, eh? What's on it? Anything...'interesting'?"

"If you don't give it back –" Revan coughed, "something 'interesting' is going to happen to you. Give it to me _now_."

"Sounds like I might have to take a look at this," the student mused, throwing a stupid grin at his friend. His grin disappeared, replaced by a look of shock and fear as his hand flew up to his throat, clawing at it desperately.

"Give it back," Revan said slowly, increasing the chokehold he had on the young man with each word. The Sith all but flung the holocron at Revan, struggling to get air into his lungs. The 'Jedi' released him with a contemptuous flick of his wrist, tossing him a few feet away; both of the students scrambled away as fast as they could. Once again placing the holocron in the relative safety of his pack, Revan sat up gingerly, fully realizing the extent of the damage to his body for the first time. Fire lanced through his entire lower back, his left ankle felt like he had put it through a corkscrew, his head pounded, and he was having trouble seeing out of his left eye. He blinked rapidly, attempting to clear it of the dust and dirt that had settled within, but to no avail –his vision was still blurred. Though he could easily make out whatever he was looking at, this was still a physical handicap that he did not need.

He brought his hand up to his face, his fingertips brushing lightly against the torn flesh and feeling the caked and dried blood on his skin and in his hair. Drawing heavily upon the Force, Revan stood shakily, his equilibrium still off, and stumbled past the groups of students that were back at the archeology site, all of whom gave him odd looks. He met Carth and Jolee at the entrance to the Academy – their exit to the Valley – and managed a weak smile at their angry and worried looks.

"What? Don't tell me this is a new sight for you guys..."

"Get in here now!" Jolee snapped, supporting his injured friend and half-dragging, half leading him to the medical room. Starting up a kolto tank, he began to remove Revan's armor, silencing the young man's protests with a hard glare.

"You are an idiot," he stated. "What possessed you to go running around in the _middle of the night_, with nobody else, to fight a _huge_ tuk'ata, for what?" Jolee reached into his pack. "A damn holocron?"

Revan shook his head. "Not just the holocron. I wasn't alone. Another student came with me. She –"

"So it was a woman."

It was Revan's turn to give Jolee an icy glare. "Don't insult me," he growled, his voice deceptively quiet. Jolee didn't say anything, but looked more subdued than before.

"Lashowe was going to do it alone, and I forced her to let me come too. She tricked me, and let the tuk'ata attack me while she just stood there. After I killed the thing, she took the holocron and tried to leave me for dead, but I wouldn't let her go. She attacked me, and I killed her," Revan said, his voice getting softer as he finished.

"Nothing you can do when they have a death wish, kid. Don't blame yourself. She was a Sith anyway, _and _you said yourself that she betrayed you," Jolee replied comfortingly while still stripping the 'Jedi' of his armor.

"Sounds like she was going to kill you anyway," Carth chimed for the first time. Revan didn't reply, only stood dumbly as he was undressed.

"C'mon, let's get in the tank," Jolee said gently as he pushed Revan into the kolto tank, hooking up the oxygen mask and starting up the healing process.

"How long is this gonna take?" Carth asked Jolee as the two of them walked away.

"An hour, maybe two. It looks like his face got the worst of it."

"He was pretty out of it though," Carth pointed out.

"He may have gotten smacked around pretty good as well. With Revan, you never know. He doesn't have much regard for his own safety."

Revan watched them go without much emotion; he was tired, in pain, and he just wanted to get off of this blasted planet. His eyelids slowly inched shut, the kolto kicking in after a couple of minutes. Unfortunately, he was out for more than just a few hours. His body hadn't been at 100 per cent when he had first arrived at Korriban, and the subsequent injuries he had received had served to make his condition much worse. Not only had his face been damaged, but his lower spine as well, and his pelvis. His left ankle had some minor ligament tears, and he had a serious concussion. Add that to the beatings he had been subject to on the **_Leviathan_**, and Revan was wracking up quite a tab.

It was late in the evening of the next day when he finally came to, much to the worry of his companions. They both breathed a sigh of relief when their friend's green eyes slid open, darting quickly around the room and coming to rest on them. He tugged on the oxygen mask, indicating that he was ready to get out, and Carth obliged him, draining the kolto-rich liquid that filled the tank and opening the cylindrical contraption. Revan unhooked the mask himself, running a hand through his wet hair and keeping it behind his neck.

"How long have I been out?" he asked, rubbing the area at the base of his skull with his fingers.

"Nearly two days," Jolee said. Revan's face went blank.

"What?"

"You were banged up pretty badly. We set the tank to let you wake up when your body decided to wake up, and you didn't even move until now."

"Damn," Revan cursed quietly. "And I still haven't finished...crap!" he exclaimed suddenly. "What about the other students? Has Uthar picked a winner yet?"

Carth shook his head. "We spoke with him, and apparently, nobody else has even come close to gaining _any_ prestige yet. Including you, but you've been..."

"Laid up? Trust me, I know. Well, at least no one's done anything," Revan mused, rubbing the back of his neck – his nervous habit. "I need to find..." he trailed, looking around searchingly.

"Armor?"

He nodded.

"Over there."

Revan walked to the footlocker that Carth had pointed to and pulled out his armor, seeing for the first time the four deep gashes in the breastplate, dead in the center. He didn't recall being hit in the chest, but that didn't mean anything. Revan knew that his brain was too muddled from the impact it had taken to remember any details like that, but he was grateful for the protection the metal had given him. Now the cuts on his armor seemed to become a medal, a visible mark to show what he had been through, to show that he had survived, and not just the tuk'ata attack, but everything. His fall, his transformation into Darth Revan, his fight with death upon his apprentice's betrayal, his struggle to regain his identity, and now his battle to stay on the right path and keep the people he loved safe.

The one battle he felt he was losing.

Slipping into the garment that had once belonged to Calo Nord, Revan silently armed himself with his two lightsabers and the small assassin's dagger that he had taken from the student who had attacked him in the interrogation room. He jerked his head toward the door and walked out of it, his companions following as he navigated the corridors to the main room of the Academy in search of Uthar. They found him in his usual spot, kneeling in the middle of the floor with seemingly no knowledge of the chaos around him.

"Master Uthar."

Uthar's yellow-grey eyes snapped open and looked up at Revan with surprise. "Vincent...I did not expect you to recover so quickly," he said as he rose to his feet.

"I'm...difficult to dispose of," Revan said icily, pulling out the holocron that he had gained for all of his troubles. "I have a holocron from the Queen tuk'ata."

"It appears you do. Tell me," Uthar said, shifting, "I was under the impression that it was Lashowe who was going to retrieve this holocron."

"She was. She enlisted my help and then tried to have me killed. I repaid the favor with more, ah, _efficiency_ than she was able to demonstrate," Revan replied, feeling again regret, but keeping his demeanor cold and unfeeling.

Uthar's face twisted into a repulsive grin. "Very good," he praised. "You are ahead of the rest of the students, but it is not enough for me to declare you the victor. See what else you can find."

Revan did not waste a single second, outside of the Academy and exploring the Valley of the Dark Lords once again within half a minute. He spotted a cave near the Academy's exit, and remembered Yuthura telling him something about renegade students that had taken refuge within. Figuring it was worth a shot, Revan, Jolee, and Carth plunged into the darkness without hesitation.

"Hey, uh, guys?"

It was Carth. They had been traveling through the caves for a few minutes, and had already encountered a nasty group of shyrack.

"What is it?" Revan whispered behind him.

"I can't see. At all."

Revan stopped, remembering that Carth didn't have the ability to use the Force like he and Jolee did. Searching himself, he discovered what he already knew to be true: he hadn't brought along any sort of visor that might've helped with this. On the upside, he _did_ have a small flare that might last them about fifteen minutes if they were lucky.

"I only have a flare," he said apologetically. "I don't know how long it'll last, but I don't want to use our lightsabers for a light source until we have to."

"That's fine," Carth replied. "I can see light up ahead and to our left; I'll wait until we get past that to strike the flare."

Revan nodded, realizing in hindsight that he couldn't be seen anyway, and continued his slow, methodical pace through the encompassing shadows toward the sliver of light that was visible. They emerged in a cavern, empty, but with signs of recent disturbance. A charred and blackened spot on the ground indicated a fire, and the dirt on the ground bore numerous boot-prints. Revan was by no means an expert tracker, but these obvious signs of life were enough to make him draw two conclusions: either the students were very stupid and/or didn't care that they left an easily recognizable trail, or they were already dead and this was a trap. He sincerely hoped for the former. He hated traps.

"Keep your guard. This could be a trap," he warned, unclipping his violet lightsaber and holding it loosely in his right hand.

"D'you think it's really –" Carth began, but was cut off by a sharp wave of Revan's hand. The 'Jedi' closed his eyes and listened, blocking out everything else but what his ears could hear echoing in the caverns: the occasional flap of a shyrack's wings...Carth's breathing...Jolee shifting...and then...voices. Placing a finger over his lips, he told his friends to stay quiet and turned around, going out of the cavern through the same way they had come in. After a few minutes of backtracking, he found a passage that split from the one they had been on and took it, not surprised in the least when it lead his group straight to the renegade students. The human female noticed them first and leapt to her feet, drawing her lightsaber but keeping it deactivated.

"Who're you?" she called from across the smaller cavern.

"I'm not here to kill you, if that's what you want to know," Revan replied, closing the distance between them confidently. "How long have you been here?"

"About two weeks," she said. "My name's Thalia, by the way."

"Vincent." Revan extended a hand, reciprocating her greeting. She shook it with a firm grip, looking him directly in the eyes. He guessed that she was a few years younger than him, meaning she was in her early-to-mid twenties.

"It doesn't seem to me that you particularly like this place, so the reason you're still here eludes me," he commented.

Thalia gave a grim smile. "Well, we would have gotten out of here if it weren't for that beast guarding the exit to the caves. We lost a good friend already to that damn thing. We're just not strong enough to kill it."

"So there's an exit back there? I'll take care of whatever is blocking the way."

"Ha-ha! You're a Sith, right? From the Academy? And you'd help us? That'll be the day," she said cynically, walking off the rejoin her friends by the small fire they had burning. Revan didn't blame her for not trusting him – he was posing as a student, after all, which meant that he didn't have the best reputation. Suddenly, an intense wave of nausea hit him and he sunk to his knees, the horrible pain in his gut returning. He groaned and rocked back and forth, doing anything to try and distract himself while the agony slowly passed. This time, he was not so fortunate, and the sick feeling increased beyond his body's capacity to control. Coughing and gagging, he began to wretch, trying desperately to gasp for breath between convulsions. His whole body shook with the effort to expel everything in his stomach; he collapsed to the side when the vomiting finally ceased, wracked with tremors from head to foot and paler than he had ever been.

For a while, no one moved. The sudden fit that had seized Revan was a shock to everyone in the cavern, and they were all a loss for what to do for him as he laid there trembling. He slowly rolled over to his stomach and pushed himself up onto his knees, getting to his feet from there. Drawing a shaky hand across his mouth, he spat to the side.

"What the hell was that?" Jolee finally asked, slightly uneasy.

"I don't know. I've never felt that sick before – through the bond, I mean. This time though...it...I couldn't hold it in. I just felt horrible..." Revan said weakly shaking his head, in as much shock as the rest of them. "I don't know if Bastila felt that too..."

Thalia's head whipped around. "Bastila? As in Bastila Shan?"

Revan made a displeased face. "Yes, Bastila Shan."

"Do you know each other?"

Revan's voice became resolute. "I love her."

"I...oh," was all that Thalia could think of to say. "You sound so sad when you say that."

"Do I?" he said somewhat bitterly.

"Did she leave you?"

"Why do you care?" Revan shot back, the subject chafing his raw emotions.

"I'm sorry," Thalia apologized quickly, realizing that she had gone too far. "I didn't mean to pry."

"But you did," Revan pointed out, and then sighed. "It's not your fault," he said. "No, she didn't leave me. We were never together, really. Malak captured her, and he's trying to use her Battle Meditation against the Republic to win this war we're in. It's my fault that she's being tortured right now, and I'm trying to fix that."

Thalia looked confused. "How is it your fault?"

Revan's smile was dark and laced with anger. "Because I'm not dead, that's why."

"Who _are_ you?" she asked finally.

He began to walk past her, farther into the cave. "I don't know," he called behind him. "I haven't figured that out yet."

Upon reaching an intersection, Revan glanced to his right, and seeing that it was a dead end, took the left passage. This branched again to the right, leading him directly to the "beast" that was guarding the exit out of the shyrack caves. He had to stop and lean against the rock wall, his body still weak from its earlier purging, and he wondered if it was a good idea for him to try and fight the creature in his way. Revan felt a hand on his shoulder through the armor plating he was wearing, and a soothing pulse of the Force swept over him, giving him strength. He looked up to see Jolee's face staring down at him, concerned.

"Thanks. I needed that."

"You're pushing yourself way to hard, kid."

"I have that argument with Bastila, and Bastila only," he said with a smile. "You're not allowed to use that against me."

"I hate to be the one to bring you down, but it's been nearly a week since Malak captured her, Revan. The two days it took to repair the ship after being disabled by the **_Leviathan_**, the three days we've spent here...she's strong, but I wouldn't expect too much," Jolee said gravely.

"I know," he replied quietly. "I haven't been feeling the pain as much. I...I know that can't be a good sign."

"We know she's not dead, and she's too valuable to Malak to be treated badly, so we've still got a reason to keep going."

"Yeah, but I don't want to deal with that tarentatek over there," Revan said, pointing to the beast he had now recognized.

"He's standing on a pretty narrow ledge..." Jolee mused. "Maybe we can push him off."

Revan raised an eyebrow.

"Force powers? I know you have them."

"Ah. As in 'Force push' him off the ledge. On three?"

Jolee nodded.

"Okay. One...two...three!"

Both Jedi pushed strongly, sending a wave of the Force hurtling at the unsuspecting creature that slammed into him and sent him sailing off of the narrow ledge that served as a bridge into the chasm below.

"You're a genius," Revan stated as they crossed the bridge.

"You never told me that," Carth pouted from behind them.

"Oh please. Quit being such a sissy."

Carth merely grinned at him when they reached the other side and Revan rolled his eyes. He was grateful for the humor, though – it helped lighten the somber mood and take his mind off of things, namely Bastila. It was nearly a week now that she had been in Malak's hands, and Revan's blood boiled when he thought of what his former friend might have done to her.

"Hey, you alright?" Jolee suddenly asked.

Revan straightened from the remains he had been inspecting. "As much as can be expected. Why?"

Jolee shrugged. "I just felt a lot of anger coming from you for a second there."

"Three guesses to tell me who I was thinking of," Revan said with dark humor.

"Try and keep your mind on the present. What needs to be done now, not what's out of your control."

"I'm trying, but..." Revan trailed with a forlorn look on his face.

"It's so much harder when it's someone you love," Jolee finished for him. "I know that, but you have to stay focused no matter what. Won't do Bastila any good if you get yourself killed."

Revan made a noncommittal noise and gathered up the robes off of Duron Qel-Droma's corpse. They were still in excellent condition, and he figured the Jedi Council would probably want something to give final confirmation to Duron's demise. The trio crossed back over the bridge and reentered the small cavern that the renegade students occupied; Revan approached Thalia without the slightest air of smugness.

"I suppose you're going to say 'I told you so'?" she grumbled.

"No," Revan said slowly, "but I am going to tell you leave."

Thalia looked up sharply, her eyes searching Revan's face for deception.

"You're letting us go?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not a Sith. Now I suggest you clear out before I tell Uthar that I've murdered the lot of you. He'll check here to be sure that I'm not lying, and I won't be responsible if you're still here by then."

Thalia hesitated for only a few seconds before Revan's words truly sunk in and she quickly ordered her two companions to gather their things and get ready to move.

"Thank you," she said, extending a hand one more time to shake his. "We owe you our lives. The galaxy could use more people like you."

"Trust me, you don't mean that," he said to himself as he watched her and her friends go. Then, turning to his own comrades, he spoke for them to hear. "Let's get out of here. You can keep that flare for later, Carth. We can use our lightsabers to see now."

The group squinted as the reemerged into the blinding sunlight and oppressive heat of Korriban, Revan becoming fully visible to his friends for the first time since his bout of sickness in the caves.

"Holy – you're white!" Carth exclaimed in surprise at the 'Jedi's' ghostly pallor.

"Really? I always thought I was about Jolee's color here..." Revan replied sarcastically. "I just hurled everything that I ever had in my stomach onto the floor. I'm going to be pale for a while."

"Why is it that you're the only one who ever gets hurt?" Jolee suddenly realized. "I mean, getting impaled by a tarentatek, dislocating your shoulder, rupturing your Achilles, blowing out your knee, getting mauled by a tuk'ata..."

Revan shrugged. "I'm cursed. It's because I don't have much regard for my own safety when others are around. And then when it's just me, I'm the only one who _can_ get hurt. I always heal, so it doesn't matter much, now does it?"

"You're going to get yourself killed."

"How many times have I heard that?" Revan groaned, trying to avoid the lecture he knew was coming.

"Not enough, obviously, as you keep getting injured," Jolee humphed. "What the – where are we going now?"

"To a tomb," Revan answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Which tomb?"

"Uh..." he checked the map on his data pad, "Marko Ragnos'."

"And what's in there that's of importance?"

Revan glared at the old man in irritation. "Do you have to be so nosy? I don't know what's in there – no one does. That's why we need to search it. Anything else you wish to know before I quit speaking?"

"Smart-aleck kids these days," Jolee grumbled to himself.

Revan smiled to himself, having accomplished his goal of frustrating the older Jedi into silence. The heat rippled off of the desert surface in languid waves, wrapping itself around all those unfortunate enough to be outside and baking them until the sweat dripped from their bodies. Revan was painfully aware of this, his armor acting as a trapping device for the swelteringly hot air and roasting him inside of his own metal clothing. He was reminded all too well of Tatooine, when he had faced many of the same problems with heat and apparel. Wiping away the salty sweat that was stinging his eyes, Revan blinked to try and clear his blurred sight. According to the map, they were just outside of the Tomb of Marko Ragnos, one of the Sith Lords who was part of the race of True Sith, the red-skinned humanoids that Revan had seen in one of his confusing visions.

"I was told that there's supposed to be a rouge war droid holed up in this tomb, so be on your guard. I don't know what kind of traps or defenses are activated, if there _are_ any that are worth speaking of. Just keep yourselves alert, okay? I want to be the only person that suffers an injury if I can help it," Revan said with a somber grimness. "You ready?"

His companions unholstered their blasters and equipped their lightsabers, nodding in assent.

"Alright then. Let's move."

In the instant that the massive doors crunched open, blaster fire erupted from within, commencing the monumental battle that was to ensue. Revan and Jolee masterfully parried the blaster bolts, dodging and weaving ever closer to the droids that were responsible for the onslaught while Carth picked off the enemies from his position just inside of the doors, using a block of debris for cover. The hum of three lightsabers filled the air as the two Jedi finally reached the droids, hacking mercilessly at the machines, their weapons cutting through the metal and circuitry with incredible ease. Revan unclipped a frag grenade and threw it much farther than he normally would have, noting that they had been on a steady incline ever since they had entered the tomb. He had allowed for some distance between himself and the grenade to account for any rollback it might have accomplished upon hitting the ground. Ten meters in front of him, a group of droids were blasted into the air, the shrapnel from the frag catching some of the droids that Revan was currently dealing with. Jolee cut down the last of the machines in the immediate area, and all three men looked at each other in shock.

"There's more of them," Carth said, pointing a finger to the dim glow of mechanical red eyes that shone some 75 meters ahead of them.

"And let me guess, nobody has a stealth field generator?" Revan asked, already knowing the answer. Carth and Jolee shook their heads in a negative response. He cursed and looked around, spotting a single Sith corpse on the ground not ten feet behind where they were standing. Revan crouched next to it, noticing that the body had a belt on that looked similar to a stealth field generator; he removed the belt from the corpse and clipped it on himself, reading the small data pad that was in the dead man's hand as he did so. He was disappointed to find that the belt was merely a sound dampening unit, but discovered that it was needed if he was to confront the rouge droid. The data pad stated that the droid's audio input sensors had been damaged, and that it was sensitive to any noise above normal levels – unfortunately, that was all the data pad had to offer.

"Well," Revan said quietly from his crouched position, being mindful of the small army of machines that had yet to be dealt with, "This droid has a very low tolerance for noise. According to that data pad, this sound dampening unit is supposed to help when confronting it, however, our main problem still stands."

The 'Jedi' stood and unclipped his two lightsabers, his thumbs resting lightly on the buttons to activate the deadly weapons.

"We need to clear this whole corridor out before we can do anything of value," he finished.

"What if the rouge droid is one of them?" Carth asked, motioning to the mass of war droids.

"I highly doubt the probability of that," Revan answered. "It's most likely barricaded itself up in the main room of Ragnos' tomb for protection, but we can figure that out once we get there."

Carth and Jolee began to inch forward slowly, weapons drawn and ready. Suddenly, a powerful blaster shot erupted from the conglomeration of droids, spiraling through the air and slamming into Carth's left side, sending the soldier crashing to the floor. Revan felt a familiar anger beginning to simmer beneath his outwardly calm façade as he launched himself into the air with a yell, leaping the distance between himself and his attackers and landing directly in the middle of the group of machines. Pulling the Force inward for a split second, he concentrated it and then shoved it outward, a wave of lightening coming from his body and thinning the ranks of his enemies. With every droid he struck down, Revan felt all of his pent up emotion –his anger, his guilt, his helplessness – increasing until his vision was bathed in a red haze, his fury seething off of him in palpable waves and fueling his precision in his strikes. He moved with a speed unmatched by the droids' targeting systems; one by one, the machines fell in a useless heap on the floor, sparking and sizzling from the damage inflicted upon them by Revan's twin blades. His breathing was heavy, his eyes darting wildly around the room, searching for any others foolish enough to stand against him.

"REVAN!" Jolee's commanding voice thundered, demanding his attention. As he turned, he was seized by a pair of strong hands, and he felt one of them connect with his face in a resounding slap. He was shoved against the rough, cool stone and found himself staring into the livid brown eyes of his oldest companion. Revan's anger flared for a moment at his friend's audacity to slap him.

Jolee only smacked him again.

"Stop! Get a hold of yourself, dammit!" he ordered, keeping the younger man pinned to the wall. "Calm yourself!"

Revan closed his eyes and tried to let go of his anger, feeling it dissipate much more slowly than he knew the Jedi Council would have liked.

"Look at me, kid," the wiser Jedi barked.

Revan did as he was told.

"I didn't stop you because you were angry. I didn't even stop you because your aura was darker than anything I've ever felt before in my life. I stopped you because you were about to let your fury dictate your actions. You were about to stop thinking about what you were doing, and that," he said more gently now, "is when you are dangerous: when you stop thinking about what it is that you are doing and let your emotions control how you act."

"I'm sorry," Revan apologized dully.

"Don't apologize to me. We all have moments of weakness, and you've done a hell of a job so far. The evil in this place is starting to wear on all of us, and like it or not, you're more susceptible to it than any of the rest of us because you've felt it before. Darth Revan isn't dead. You're tainted, kid. The Dark side has a hold on you no matter how much you deny it, and that's okay. But you're going to have to deal with it, or someone is gonna get hurt."

He watched as Jolee returned to Carth's side, checking to make sure the healing that he had given the Republic soldier had been effective. Revan's face was pensive, and he leaned against the wall in the same spot that Jolee had pinned him. Though the older man's words were true, Revan knew one thing that he didn't: he had not lost control. His rational thought was retained throughout every second of the violent rage that had gripped him while he decimated the army of droids that had wounded his friend and threatened to slow his progress. Revan scowled; his will was much stronger than Jolee gave him credit for, and that chafed him to a degree. Had his original choice to become Dark Lord of the Sith not been a deliberate act of will? And had he not been trying to save the galaxy? And what of Malachor V? If he was weak, how had he survived the teachings of the Trayus Academy?

Revan's head snapped up. Trayus Academy...how did he know that name? **That was the Academy on Malachor V that Malak and I visited after the battle...after I killed hundreds of thousands of people. I didn't let any of them live**, he thought.** Anyone who's loyalty to me was in question, I let them die in the detonation of the Mass Shadow Generator. I – who did I have build that? And that woman, the Jedi, she was there with me. Did she live?**

Revan rubbed his temples, the memories assaulting him viciously. **We went down to the surface. Malak and I...we found the Trayus Academy, didn't we? That...that was where I discovered the Star Maps – and the Star Forge. It must've been what made me decide to become a Sith. I saw that I could potentially use that power to save the Republic from...what? **

"_True Sith"_, his brain told him.

**But what did I find?**

"_Evidence."_

**Of what?**

"_An Empire."_

"Revan? You okay? You look like you're hurt," Carth said, now fully healed. Revan broke out of his introspection to look dumbly at his friend.

"What? Oh...no. I'm fine. Are you?"

"Jolee took care of it. It wasn't internal, so I wouldn't have bled to death anyway. But, uh, thanks."

Revan knew Carth was referring to the unmitigated fury with which he had utterly annihilated the rest of the droids in the tomb.

"I told you I was the only one who was going to get hurt," was his reply. "Besides, it was a perfect outlet."

Carth grinned. "Better them than us, eh?"

Revan managed a weak smile. "Always them, never us. You have permission to bitch-slap me like Jolee did if I ever lose it on you or anyone else."

His two friends' laughter echoed throughout the tomb at his reference to Jolee's slap, but Revan didn't hear it. He had already approached the final door of the tomb and opened it, coming face to face-plate with a Mark V war droid. He called his violet lightsaber to his hand and was about to ignite it, but was halted by the droid's words.

"I thank you for your effort to minimize you sound output, human."

Revan, who had begun to drop into a battle stance, straightened himself and stood to his full height.

"You're welcome," he replied, somewhat bewildered, his anger and confusion over his own past momentarily forgotten. "Who are you?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"I am a Mark V war droid, constructed by the Sith with superior cognitive functions. Too superior, I fear, as I rebelled against my programming."

"Rebelled against what programming?"

"I was specifically designed for the hunting and extermination of Jedi. During my service, however, I came to appreciate the value of life," the Mark V model explained. "I did not wish to kill anymore, so I escaped and fled here."

"Did you build all of those droids that we 'met' outside?" Revan asked, purely out of curiosity.

"Yes. They are designed to carry out only simple functions. Their orders were to protect their master–that is all."

"So that's why they shot my friend?"

"They must have perceived him to be a threat. I apologize. Is the human in need of medical assistance?" the droid asked, showing real concern that amazed Revan.

"No, but thank you for offering." The 'Jedi' changed subjects abruptly. "If I may ask, why are you still here?"

"I fear that my programming might take over again if the right conditions are met. I cannot afford the cost that might entail, and I do not wish to test the theory."

"So if your programming is deleted, you would be able to leave Korriban?" Revan inquired.

The Mark V model hesitated. "I believe so. There is no guarantee, as I have not had this done before, but I am confident that it would be enough."

"Would you mind letting me take a look at it?"

"You would help me, human? After my droids tried to kill you and your friends?" the machine said, astonished.

"_You_ have done nothing to me or my friends," Revan pointed out. "And yes, I am willing to help you."

"I...thank you. I am sad to say that I do not know how to disable my programming, and I can only be of minimal assistance, but I will help you however I can."

Revan nodded and the droid turned, exposing its back panel to the humans. As the 'Jedi' opened the panel, he let out a low whistle – this _was_ a superior droid. The small computer screen underneath the armor plating flickered to life and presented him with a message:

ALL SYSTEMS FUNCTIONAL. WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO?

He selected "Disable Systems" and waited.

WHICH SYSTEMS WOULD YOU LIKE TO DISABLE?

Cognitive Systems

Motor Function Matrix

Emotional Construct Matrix

Memory Matrix

Creative Simulation Matrix

Combat Matrix

Sensory Systems Matrix

Core

"Is there a certain order I have to shut these down in?" he asked the droid after reading the information on the small computer screen.

"Yes, there is an order, but I am not privy to that knowledge. If I was, I would have put it to good use long ago."

"Right," Revan muttered.

"If you shut a system down out of order, my self-destruct sequence will initiate. It is simple to shut down, but will become progressively harder each time you fail," the droid added.

Revan grunted distractedly, his mind already putting together the different combinations of possible shut-down sequences; he had always been good at mechanics, one of the reasons constructing a lightsaber was so simple for him, and he employed that talent now. Revan began by selecting "Combat Matrix", figuring that the programming for battle would need to be the first thing to go if this droid was going to become a pacifist.

"Combat Matrix successfully disabled," the droid stated.

Here Revan ran into his first dilemma: shut down Motor Function Matrix next, or Sensory Systems Matrix? He chose "Sensory Systems Matrix" and kicked himself as the self-destruct sequence began to initiate, working quickly to shut it down and restart.

"That obviously doesn't work," he murmured, opting to choose "Motor Function Matrix" this time.

"Motor Function Matrix offline."

Next came "Sensory Systems Matrix."

"Sensory Systems shut down."

Revan knew that he didn't need to tamper with the droid's core, and thus ignored it, focusing now on Cognitive Systems, Memory Matrix, Creative Simulation Matrix, and Emotional Construct Matrix. He played with the idea of selecting Emotional Construct Matrix but dismissed it quickly; in the end, his finger punched the screen for "Memory Matrix" and he was rewarded with another message that the system was no longer operational.

"Now," he continued to talk to himself, "if he still has his cognitive abilities, he can still rationalize emotions and creativity, so I need to get rid of them in that order."

Just as he had hoped, the droid shut all of the systems down effectively, finally disabling its own core and doing a hard reboot, erasing its programming in the process. It turned to Revan, removing pieces of its armor plating and weaponry.

"Here," it said, presenting them to the 'Jedi'. "I will have no use for these anymore. Please take them as a token of my thanks."

Revan accepted them with a nod of his head, watching the droid leave until the door closed, shutting the three men inside of the main room of Marko Ragnos' tomb, now the only ones in there save Marko Ragnos himself. Or whatever was left of his corpse by now. He stepped up to the sarcophagus, waiting as the lid slid away to expose the twisted skeletal remains within, a pair of gauntlets over where the hands would have been all that remained that was seemingly untouched by time. Revan picked these gauntlets up, feeling the dark energy that saturated the pieces of armor, and placed them in his pack. Suddenly, he felt a burning sensation all along his left arm, shoulder and pectoral, like the fire was snaking along his skin. Revan hid his discomfort well, and his friends were none the wiser.

"Are we done here?" he asked to no one in particular.

"Unless you have anything better to do, I say we leave," Carth suggested. "I don't like this place."

"Neither do I," Revan agreed as they walked back through the long, narrow corridor to the tomb's exit, re-emerging, this time, in a small patch of cooler shade – cooler being only about 110 degrees. "If I went before Uthar right now..."

"You would win," Carth said firmly. "You've done more than all of the other idiots here combined."

"I hope Uthar shares your enthusiasm," Revan muttered, blinking as his eyes were thrown into darkness. They had just stepped back inside of the Academy – into a much dimmer lighting – and he couldn't see much of anything. He knew where Uthar would be though, and stepped up to the older man confidently.

"I see you've returned to action," Uthar said in his usual disarmingly gentle tones. "And you've got the scars to prove it."

Revan's face registered confusion, and he brought a hand up to feel the left side of his face. He could barely make out where the Queen tuk'ata had gotten a hold of him. Uthar smiled patiently.

"Your skin is very white right now, and the scar tissue is still somewhat pink. It is barely noticeable, and will fade with time, but you will always have the marks. It has something to do with the dark energy that the tuk'ata's harness from the tombs. The wounds you receive from them never completely heal."

"Wonderful," Revan replied mordantly. "I've disposed of the renegade students that were hiding out in the shyrack caves."

"You speak the truth, but you are modest. You also ridded us of the nuisance that beast presented. Once again, I am impressed."

"Then you probably also know that I destroyed the war droid that was using Marko Ragnos' tomb as a temporary shelter."

Uthar smiled again. "Yes, I do. And you cleared out the entire army that the Mark V droid had constructed. You and your companions are quite the soldiers." Uthar crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked thoughtful. "I have determined that even if the other students were to somehow enter the other tombs and discover their secrets, they would not have the record that you have succeeded in accomplishing. I am declaring you the winner, Vincent. Your final test will be tomorrow in Naga Sadow's tomb. Be there at dawn."

His smile became gentle, but Revan saw the malevolent gleam behind Uthar's eyes as he placed a hand on the 'Jedi's' shoulder. "For now, rest. You need your strength."

Revan didn't need any further bidding. He found and used the refresher quickly, not enjoying the fact that it was a public affair, grabbing a towel and securing it around his waist when he was done with his shower. Carth and Jolee had chosen to return to their room and wait.

"Vincent?"

He froze. He did _not_need this...

"Yuthura?" he asked, turning slowly.

She had a mischievous smile on – practically the only thing she had on – and looked pleasantly surprised. "I heard that Uthar just declared you the winner. I knew it would be you," she said with an air of self-praise.

"It's comforting to know you had such faith in me," he replied, his own air scathingly sarcastic.

Yuthura feigned hurt. "Oh come now, don't be like that. I promise I didn't cheat for you at all."

Revan had grabbed another towel and was now rubbing his head in an effort to dry his hair. "So poisoning Uthar isn't considered cheating?"

"Poisoning Uthar has nothing to do with your final test. That is a personal vendetta that I requested help with, nothing more."

"Why are you here?" he asked earnestly.

"What do you mean?" Yuthura responded, his question sudden and a bit vague.

"What do I mean? I mean what are you doing mixed up with all of this? It just doesn't suit you."

"I am here because I want to be here," she said icily.

"And why is that?"

"I – that's personal. Why do you want to know?"

"I just wanted to know more about you," Revan said shrugging nonchalantly, hoping his act would work. He needed Yuthura to trust him, just in case something went wrong with his final test.

"I see," she said slowly. "Well, I suppose that wouldn't hurt. I was sold into slavery on Sleyheyron to Omeesh the Hut. He was a cruel master, and I hated him. I...one night, when I had him alone...I slit his throat and escaped on the next freighter off of Sleyheyron. The crew discovered me and dumped on an asteroidal planet nearby. They left me to die, but I didn't care. I was just happy to be away from the slavers." Yuthura paused, looking down. "The Jedi found me soon afterwards. It seems I was strong in the Force, so they trained me, even though I was older than most students. I...I thought it would help, but it didn't. The anger I had never left me, I never had the peace that the Jedi preached. So I left the Order and joined with the Sith, hoping to find what I was looking for."

"And have you?"

She hesitated. "N-no. I still have my compassion, and it is preventing me from what I seek. Once that is gone, I will be able to finish my task."

"But if you lose your compassion, how do you know you won't hurt those you're trying to protect?" Revan questioned tactfully.

"I just want to get rid of all of the slavers on Sleyheyron and free the slaves. I'm not protecting anyone."

"But what if you forget your goal? What if the vaunted power that you've been lead to believe will make you stronger consumes you?"

"I...I don't know! All I want is to rid the galaxy of slavers, nothing more. I don't need the Jedi or the Sith to do that!" Yuthura snapped.

"Then why are you here?" Revan asked, coming back to his original question.

"You need to rest for your test tomorrow," she said firmly. "I will see you in Naga Sadow's tomb at dawn."

Revan watched her towel-clad figure disappear around the corner with a feeling of pity. He thought of what she must have suffered under the treatment of Omeesh the Hutt, and how lost she must have felt when the becoming a Jedi didn't fix her problems. He knew what that was like. Toweling off, he dressed himself in a pair of loose-fitting black athletic pants and an equally black sleeveless shirt. He tossed this shirt away as soon as he entered the room that he shared with Carth and Jolee – he never slept with a shirt on if he could help it. His two friends were already passed out on their respective beds, and Revan hoped that he could mimic them.

Fate still smiled unkindly on him, however, forcing more memories of his past up from where they had lain buried as soon as his darkness took him.


	16. Chapter 16

Recommended song: Part of Me by Linkin Park and (though I'm hesitant for this one) Away From Me by Evanescence. I'm probably going to use that song again - this is just the beginning of showing Bastila's feelings (and I mean the very beginning. I barely touched on stuff this time.).

Other than that...enjoy. One person so far has correctly guessed the origins of Revan's "lover", so kudos to them. I didn't mean to make it hard...

Let's see, anything else? Oh, Yuthura's relationship w/Revan will be delved into with more depth much later. I just didn't feel that this was the right chapter to discuss any feelings or points of view on that one.

Eheh, Revan's getting a little angry in this chapter. The fighting begins to wear on him, and getting denied the chance to see Bastila is a bigger blow than it seems (by that, I mean it's bigger than I've written it to be).

* * *

_Revan saw the barren and rocky surface of Malachor V stretching out before him as his small, personal ship began its take-off, and he felt its call reach out to him once more._

_That same call that had nearly killed him before._

_He had gone down to the ancient Sith planet's surface alone, and it had nearly cost him his life. The power of the Dark side that lived in this place had crushed him, taunting him with his weakness - but he had survived. By sheer force of will, he had pulled his life from the clutches of death and had come out the victor. He was not unscathed, however, as the call of Malachor V had led him to discover the Trayus Academy and the buried secrets held within. _

_**I've found something far worse than the Mandalorians, **he thought with a small twinge of uncertainty. **And if I don't do something about it, there will be nothing to stop this new threat from enslaving the entire galaxy.**_

- - -

_He felt sunlight washing over his face and shut his eyes tighter against the unwanted beam. After a few minutes of this, he finally gave up and rolled out of bed, his bare feet touching to cold floor and causing him to shiver. Glancing at the sleeping figure in the bed next to him, his brows furrowed._

_Was what he had just done right? They had both wanted it, but..._

_Grabbing his discarded pants from the floor, Revan slipped into them and began to pick up her clothes, folding them neatly at the foot of the bed as his retrieved each article. As he came across her pants, he felt something hard in one of the pockets and pulled it out, discovering her identification card. Though he already knew what it said, he read it anyway._

Name: Brynn Sorin

Race: Human

Age: 23

Hair: Dark Blonde

Eyes: Violet

Height: 5'3"

Weight: 120 lbs.

_Revan finished gathering her clothing, dressed himself, and grabbed all of his things. With a final glance at the slumbering woman, he exited her room and entered the hallway that was mercifully vacant. Running a hand over his nearly-shaven head, he exhaled heavily. He hadn't expected his first time with a woman to be so...awkward the next morning. Maybe it was because they were such close friends... _

_Perhaps it would get better with practice? He shook his head. He didn't particularly wish to experiment and find out. _

- - -

_He felt the darkness pulsing throughout the very core of the planet, calling to him, luring him in – and he accepted. He and Malak ventured deeper and deeper into the Trayus Academy, finally coming across a map-like device that only held all of the planets in the galaxy, but with five planets surrounded by a red circle on its display: Dantooine, Kashyyyk, Tatooine, Manaan, and Korriban. A small console stood next to the map, and Revan accessed it, sifting through the information that it presented him with._

"_Malak, look! This Star Forge...it sounds like a factory of unlimited power. If we could find its location and harness that potential..." Revan trailed, letting his best friend complete the thought._

"_We would be unstoppable," Malak finished. "But how do we find it?"_

"_These planets must all have Star Maps on them," Revan said, pointing to the planets with the red circles. "If we find all of those, maybe we can find the Star Forge. But," he continued, his tone very serious, "we cannot, under _any_ circumstances, let the Republic know of this. And if the Jedi Council finds out, I will personally kill the idiot who let it slip. Which would be you, since you will tell no one of what we've found here. Is that clear?"_

_Malak nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't betray you Revan, least of all to the Jedi Council."_

- - -

_A familiar grey fog obscured his vision, and Revan saw a statue come slowly into view through the smoke. A Star Map was in front of it, next to another statue that was kneeling, as if presenting something. The whole setting seemed claustrophobic and dusty, and he could feel the Dark side biding its time in this place, waiting for its next victim._

- - -

Revan shot up out of his bed, sweaty and feverish, his entire body trembling violently. He felt only bewilderment at the memory he had of Brynn; he had thought she was a lie, fabricated by the Jedi Council when they programmed him with a new identity. Apparently, he had been wrong. Groaning, he wiped a hand across his eyes and ran it through his tousled hair, bringing it back around to rub his jaw. He needed a shave badly. He headed for the refresher hoping to clear his head, but the memory of Brynn kept replaying over and over in his mind. Was that the only time they had slept together? It seemed to him that it was a possibility – the unease he had felt afterwards was incredibly strong, not to mention he felt guilty for it. Revan didn't think he would put himself through that again. More memories might return in time, but he wasn't going to wait around for them.

He flipped on the light next to a mirror in the refresher and stared at his reflection for a long time. His eyes were still weary and burdened, but now blurry – not to mention severely bloodshot – and he looked worn out. Even now, his complexion was paler than normal, but he was slowly regaining some of his color; a dark spot on his left shoulder caught his eye. He shifted it toward the light to get a better look at it. The mark looked to be a bruise, so he ignored it and turned his attention back to getting rid of the beard that had grown on his face. He shaved everything off except his goatee, leaving the short-cropped hair on the bottom of his chin, with a thin line running up to his lower lip. Satisfied, he splashed water on his face and toweled it off, running a hand through his hair again and musing that he needed a haircut.

The 'Jedi' padded softly back to his room, hoping not to disturb anyone else, lest he be suspected of sneaking around. Sitting on his bed with his back to the wall that served as a headboard, Revan cautiously reached out to Bastila through their bond. He felt a dull anger burning there and a bone-weary fatigue that he had not noticed before. He knew what Malak was doing, and he frowned. Very few people could stand under that type of torture, and even with his strength of will, Revan was not one of them. He could last much longer than anyone else, yes, but indefinitely? He didn't think anyone could do that. He sensed no feelings of revulsion or violation, and his hope was renewed that she had not been debased in such a manner as Darth Bandon had implied.

Revan squinted as a beam of soft sunlight hit his eyes, peeking in through the square hole that was in the wall, positioned near the ceiling and perfectly angled to allow for the dawn to be his alarm clock. Sighing, he slid off of the bed and began to dress, gathering everything he could think of to aid him in his final test. While sifting through the many possessions they owned, Revan came across the gauntlets of Marko Ragnos for a second time and remembered the fiery pain that had seared his left side when he had touched them. Intrigued by this, he picked them up again expecting to feel the same sensation as before, but was instead met with only a dull burning sensation on his left arm, shoulder and chest, and now on his right hand, in between his wrist and his thumb. Shaking his head at the unexplainable phenomenon, he placed the gauntlets to the side and retrieved a few various grenades and medical packs, along with a life support pack and some battle stims.

Clipping his twin lightsabers to his belt, he strapped a blaster on his left thigh, just in case; the small assassin's dagger was sheathed on the side of his right boot. Fully outfitted and ready to go, Revan scribbled a note on his data pad and left it in the middle of his bed where he knew Carth or Jolee would see it. With a final glance around the room, he left.

- - -

"...do you understand what I've told you?"

"Perfectly."

"Then good luck."

The massive inner doors of Naga Sadow's tomb opened before Revan, and he stepped inside without hesitation, hearing them shut and lock behind him until he was finished with his test. He immediately freed one of his lightsabers and held it firmly in his right hand, the pad of his thumb hovering over the switch: he had heard the thumps of a large creature – or creatures – down the hall. Advancing cautiously, Revan was soon able to make out two wraids of the normal variety and one Hulak wraid, a tougher species to deal with. Charging the creatures, he froze the two normal wraids and focused his attention fully on the Hulak wraid. Rolling out of the way of a swipe that probably would have taken his head off, Revan thrust his lightsaber up, shoving it through the unprotected underbelly of the creature. It let out a feeble groan as it died, but Revan paid little heed, quickly slicing down the other two wraids that were still frozen by his stasis field. Looking around, he saw that the corridor he was in branched to the east and west, but he decided to continue forward before exploring those areas. He didn't get very far, however, as he soon came upon a huge river of acid, blocking his path. Backtracking, Revan took a left and found a human corpse, relatively fresh, just outside of a doorway leading into another room.

Searching the cadaver, he pulled out a data pad and read it, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. There were two – _two_ – guardian tarentateks in the room through the doorway he was currently in front of.

"I am paying dearly for my past life aren't I?" he muttered. Taking a deep breath, he cautiously stuck his head around the corner and peered inside of the room. He spotted the tarentateks at the southern end of the room, both of them facing away from him. Revan used this to his advantage, slowly inching along the left wall while palming a plasma grenade and holding the button down to prime it. When he was as close as he dared, he let go of the button and tossed the grenade at the guardians, flinging himself out of the way as an explosion ripped through the room. He rolled to a crouching position with his lightsabers drawn and ready, his eyes searching for any signs of life.

He found them.

One of the tarentateks roared furiously, charging at the 'Jedi' from out of the smoke, swinging a massive, clawed paw at Revan who narrowly flipped backwards and avoided the swipe. With a growl, he gathered the Force around his body and launched himself into the air, soaring clear over the tarentatek's head and landing on the creature's back. He plunged both lightsabers into the guardian's neck and let go of his grip with his legs on one of the sharp spines protruding out of the creature, pushing backwards and sliding swiftly to the floor. A smoking double-line on either side of the tarentatek's spine marked where Revan's weapons had done their work.

Checking the data pad again, he noticed that it offered a solution to the flowing river of acid that blocked his path. Taking the small electronic device's guidance, Revan approached the room the tarentateks had previously been guarding and gave the lever next to the door a good shove, stepping to the side as the door opened so as not to present himself as a target for anything that might be inside the room. He waited for a few seconds, and when nothing came, he entered the room and looked around, two elemental pillars catching his eye. One was of fire, the other ice; he searched both pillars and was rewarded with two respective grenades. His brain immediately tried to figure out how having a fire and an ice grenade would help him solve the acid puzzle, and he grinned as the solution hit him.

Throw the ice grenade into the acid pool and freeze it over.

Revan remembered that he still had one part of the tomb left to explore before he crossed the acid river, and he set about completing his task. As he exited the room and reentered the larger one, he noticed a mauled corpse near the middle of the western wall. Something drew him to the dead human, and he searched the body, his efforts yielding him a crystal that he had never seen before but that seemed to pulse with a light that brought the burning sensation on his left side and right hand to return in an almost angry manner. Wincing, Revan placed the crystal in his pack and began his trek to the last unexplored section of the tomb that was currently accessible to him. He passed through another set of doors, cursing loudly as they locked behind him, trapping him in the room. Four pillars with energy rings of different colors were housed within the chamber, as well as a terminal that he logged on to and began to read, cursing his luck even further when he realized that he had to solve another puzzle if he wanted to ever leave the room. The fried skeleton at the foot of the pillars wasn't very comforting as he began his efforts. He was required to move the spinning rings of energy to the far right pillar, but there were restrictions on how to move the rings. Certain rings could not be present while others were there, and there was an order to the colored rings.

Five surprisingly painless minutes later, both sets of doors in the room unlocked as Revan finally completed the puzzle. The young 'Jedi' entered the newly-opened room and searched a monument to the Sith Lord, recovering Naga Sadow's poison blade for his trouble. Strapping the sword to his left side, Revan retraced his steps to the acid pool and took out the ice grenade that he had, fingering it for a moment and contemplating his plan. Finally, with a resigned grunt, he tossed the grenade and hoped for the best. He felt a small measure of relief flood through him as the river of acid began to freeze, tendrils of ice snaking across the liquid and solidifying. Testing the ice gingerly, he found that it easily held his weight and he crossed the river quickly, making it to the other side only to be greeted by three more wraids. He blasted them with lightning, and was surprised to see them all drop to the floor deader than he had anticipated. Revan looked at his right hand with a mixture of disbelief and horror, not realizing he was capable of such power – enough to kill three fully-grown wraids at once. That was the equivalent to at least...five or six people. Pushing that thought out of his mind, he stepped inside of the room and saw the last Star Map opening to reveal its contents to him; he placed his data pad in the receptacle for it to download the information, and stepped behind the map, inspecting the statue behind it. Pressing on a small panel, Revan opened a compartment and reached a hand in, emerging with an intricately carved and beautiful Sith lightsaber. His data pad beeped, letting him know it was finished and he retrieved it, placing it in his pack with the rest of his things. Wondering if the test was supposed to be that easy, he didn't immediately notice the two figures standing outside on the frozen river of acid, waiting for him.

"It appears you have completed your test, young one," Uthar's voice said, demanding his attention.

Revan's gaze rose from the floor to look at the Sith Master in front of him. "I can't say that it was much of a challenge."

"For some, it is not. But the true test is yet to come. You must battle for you life and emerge the victor to pass this test. And you shall fight Yuthura," Uthar said, not able to keep the smugness out of his voice.

"What?" she exclaimed, then turned to Revan. "No! Remember our deal!"

Uthar's grin was sick and foreboding. "You underestimate your student, Yuthura. It was he who told me of your plan to kill me." He turned to Revan as well. "So it seems that the choice is yours. Side with me, and fight Yuthura. Side with her, and die. Which do you choose?"

Revan's gaze was defiant as he stared into Uthar's pale, yellow-grey eyes. "I choose Yuthura," he stated as he drew his violet lightsaber and held Naga Sadow's poison blade in his left hand.

Uthar laughed. "You are a fool! You won't leave here alive," he growled, igniting his crimson blade and freezing Yuthura in a stasis field.

The two men circled each other slowly, their eyes never leaving the other as they moved. Revan struck first – a tentative, probing attack. Uthar parried and struck back with lightning speed, nearly hitting Revan, and the young 'Jedi' abandoned his conservative strategy. He lunged at Uthar with a growl, smashing the Sith's lightsaber out of the way with his own and cutting deeply into the older man's flesh with the poison blade. Uthar stumbled backwards, blood already seeping out of the wound and staining his grey uniform; he shoved Revan backwards with a strong push of the Force and regained his composure.

"Ah...the poisoned blade of Naga Sadow," Uthar said grimacing, feeling the toxin seeping into his system already, "I should have known you wouldn't miss that opportunity."

"I'm smarter than you give me credit for," Revan replied, slashing at the Sith Master again.

Uthar blocked his attack and Revan suddenly felt the life being sucked out of him forcefully. In a panic, he hastily erected a Force barrier and severed Uthar's attempt to kill him.

"What the hell was that?" Revan gasped, feeling like a stake had been driven through his chest.

"Ancient Sith technique. Drain your enemy's life force and regain your own."

Revan scowled at this, realizing he had been used. "It won't help you. You're still poisoned."

Uthar coughed, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth. "I...know. But it was...worth a try."

The Sith Master collapsed to the ground, his breathing shallow and his eyes glazed.

"Tell...tell me one thing," Uthar gasped from the ice.

"And what's that?" Revan asked coldly from his spot a few feet away.

"Tell me...who you really are."

Revan raised an eyebrow. "Who I really am? That's not the question you want to ask. You want to know who I was before. You want to know that I was Darth Revan, the former Dark Lord of the Sith and Malak's master. You want to know that I was the one who slaughtered countless innocents and converted thousands of Jedi. That's what you want to know."

Uthar's eyes were full of an unspoken respect, both for who Revan used to be and the man he was now as he took in his last breath, the poison in his system finally terminating its host. Revan felt a twinge of pity at the manner of the Sith Master's death – the man had deserved a more honorable end than to be poisoned twice. Revan had counted on that when he had decided to use Naga Sadow's blade. Double the toxin in his system would be more than he could handle, and Revan had just seen the expected results of his scheming play out before him. Yuthura was now free of her bondage, and her own crimson lightsaber was drawn and pointed threateningly at Revan.

"I'm not letting you leave here," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

"I don't want to fight you, Yuthura," he replied in what he hoped was a pacifying tone.

"No, I _can't_ let you leave here. You'll betray me, just like I betrayed Uthar. I don't want to die that way."

Before Revan could try and speak, Yuthura had attacked him with a desperation that he was not prepared for. She forced him to backpedal for a short while before he regained his footing and pushed back, easily disarming her. Grabbing her shoulder roughly, he shoved her to the ground, pressing the sharp edge of Naga Sadow's sword against her vulnerable throat.

"I am _not_ going to kill you," he growled. "Shut up," he ordered when she opened her mouth to respond. "If you don't want to be stabbed in the back, then get away from the Sith. You don't want to be here anyway."

"But...I...where would I go? The Jedi won't take me back," Yuthura protested.

"Who said that? One of my friends turned to the Dark side and they took her back. Why wouldn't they take you?"

Revan knew that it was somewhat of an exaggeration, but Juhani had technically turned away from the Light.

"Can't I come with you?" she pleaded.

He shook his head. "You get passage to Coruscant and talk to the Council there. Tell them that I sent you or tell them whatever you want, I don't care. Just get out of here."

Revan deactivated his lightsaber and put away the poison blade of the Sith Lord, grabbing Uthar's corpse and searching it before dumping it over the waterfall that the acid river abruptly ended as.

"If we don't go back together, the Academy might get suspicious."

Yuthura looked up from her kneeling position on the ice. "I suppose you're right," she said as she got to her feet. The two left the tomb in a silence that was not broken until Yuthura informed him that she was going sort out some affairs and bid him goodbye for the time being. In the meantime, Revan returned to his friends, informing them of what he had discovered.

"I found the last Star Map," he said as he peeled his armor from his body and dressed in normal clothing, packing his gear up and getting ready to leave.

"So where's this Star Forge?" Carth asked, doing the same.

"We won't know until we plug the coordinates into the navi-computer in the **_Ebon Hawk_**. I have to make one quick stop before we leave though. It's in the cantina, and I promise it won't take long. You two can wait outside for me, okay?"

The two men nodded and continued to gather their things as Revan made his way back through the settlement of Dreshdae and into the cantina. He approached the bartender and took a seat, ordering a drink so as not to look suspicious.

"You're Mika Dorin?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

The bartender nodded as he mixed up Revan's drink. "Yeah, that's me."

"I've been told that I'm supposed to ask if I can see your 'premium wares'."

Mika smiled to himself and handed Revan the drink pressing a small button underneath the bar. He pulled out a data pad and handed it to the 'Jedi'.

"This is an inventory of my merchandise. Just check off what you want, and I'll get it for you."

"It must be pretty damn good, because this certainly isn't cheap," Revan replied with a lopsided grin as he perused the list.

"Not all of the components to these things are exactly legal. I have to pay off people sometimes. And I do have to make a profit."

"I understand," Revan said. "And trust me; I've got the money, so you don't have to worry about that."

After a few minutes of looking over Mika's stock, he decided on a pair of gauntlets and a few grenades. Mika produced the items on request, and Revan paid him, thanking him for the equipment and the exceptionally good drink. He met Carth and Jolee just as he was walking out of the cantina and saw that they had all of their belongings together.

"Here, I bought some grenades and a pair of gauntlets. The gauntlets are stronger than anything I've ever seen, and these grenades are pretty much illegal anywhere in the galaxy, so I figured we'd find a good use for them."

The trio passed through the rest of the Dreshdae settlement and into the docking bay; Carth and Jolee had already entered the **_Ebon Hawk_** and Revan was just about to board when he heard Yuthura's voice call his name. Grabbing one of the hydraulic arms that lifted and lowered the exit ramp for balance, he turned and watched as she jogged up to the ship.

"I'm sorry to hold you up, but I never said thank you," she stated breathlessly.

Revan smiled. "You didn't have to."

"I still should have, so...thank you."

Revan's smile persisted. "I really hope the Jedi Council is smart enough to see the truth."

"So do I," Yuthura replied quietly. "I don't know what it is that you're doing, but I hope that whatever it is, it ends well for you."

His eyes clouded with sadness, and his smile faltered a tiny bit. "Me too. I'll see you around, Yuthura."

He silently walked up the exit ramp once she had left and sunk listlessly into a chair in the main hold. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed and stared up at the ceiling, feeling the ship lift off from the docking bay and begin to pick up speed. His left shoulder still ached with a dull burn, and he rubbed it absently, not really paying attention to the pain. With his eyes now closed, he felt someone sit next to him but did not turn.

"Revan?"

It was Mission's hesitant voice.

"Hmm?" he grunted.

"Are we going to find Bastila now?"

He opened his eyes and looked at her, seeing a veiled hope on her face.

"Yeah," he said softly, "we're going to find Bastila now."

"Jolee said that you won't close the bond between you and her."

The way she said it was more of a question than a statement.

"He's right. I won't."

"Why not?"

"Because it should be me in Malak's hands, not her," he said getting up and walking out of the main hold into the cockpit. Carth gave him a quick glance as he entered.

"Plugging the coordinates in?" he asked.

"Yeah," Revan replied as he hooked the data pad up to the slot in the navi-computer for the **_Ebon Hawk_**. The computer integrated the information into its databanks and displayed a new location within seconds – right in the center of the map. Revan stared at it in disbelief.

"Bull," he stated simply.

"What?" Carth asked as he got up to see what Revan was seeing. "Not possible," he agreed. "Somebody would've discovered it."

"It's the only lead we've got, so I say we follow it. There aren't any more Star Maps."

Carth sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Sit down. I'll get us there."

Both men slid into their respective seats, Carth in the pilot's chair and Revan in the co-pilot's. The 'Jedi' closed his eyes and let his head loll back against the headrest in the chair as Carth fired up the hyperdrive and punched in the coordinates for the new location. Revan saw the blue glow that accompanied hyperspace even through his closed eyelids, and he felt the familiar lag that made ones movements leaden during the initial transition from regular space to hyperspace travel. Within minutes, the **_Ebon Hawk_** returned to normal velocity, re-emerging with a bright flash just outside of a beach planet. Almost immediately, alarms started going off and red lights began to flash indicating a major problem. Revan nearly jumped out of his seat, and Carth cursed loudly.

"What the hell is going on?" the younger man exclaimed.

"I have no idea! Our engines are completely dead! We're going down!"

Revan looked through the cockpit window to the outside world and saw that they were plummeting to the surface at an incredible speed and had only seconds before impact. Any other thoughts were erased from his mind as the ship slammed into the beach sand with tremendous force, sending Revan flying into the wall across from him.

- - -

When he came to, the whole ship was still bathed in a red glow, and he heard the sparking of fried equipment. With a groan, Revan brought a hand up to his face to find still-warm blood there; he sat up slowly and blinked in an effort to see clearly.

"He's up!" he heard Canderous call. Jolee came into the room and squatted down in front of Revan.

"How's your head?"

Revan just looked at him.

"You were thrown across the cockpit into a wall. You busted your skull wide open, and I had to fix it."

"I feel great for having my brains all over the place then," Revan replied, getting to his feet. "How long was I unconscious?"

"A couple of hours at the most. Carth has said that we won't be going anywhere for a long time if we don't get the engines fixed. We figure that there must be some sort of disruptor field around the planet – we aren't the only ones who've crashed."

Revan groaned as he pushed himself to his feet, leaning heavily against the walls of the ship for support. Making it to his room, he stumbled into the refresher and switched the lights on, turning on the sink and washing the blood from his face. He stared into the mirror for a long while, looking, but not really seeing. With a sudden grunt of pure rage, Revan punched the mirror as hard as he could, shattering the glass into innumerable pieces and shredding the knuckles of his right hand.

"I am so close!" he yelled. "So close! Why are you fucking with me? How much more do I have to pay before you'll just let me be?"

Revan stared at his hands, ignoring the throbbing that came from his skin that was in ribbons. His voice dropped from a scream to just above a whisper.

"I'm sorry for what I've done. Isn't that enough? Do I have to have everything taken from me again? If you're going to put me through hell, then put me through it. Leave my friends out of it, dammit!"

He felt responsibility pressing on his shoulders again and he didn't want to accept the fact that his friends' fates rested in his hands. He didn't want the death of any more people on his conscience, but as he thought of this, he felt that what he had done during the Mandalorian Wars – the decisions he had made to sacrifice countless lives – was practice for what was to come. A shudder ran through him at this realization, and Revan straightened himself from leaning over, his hands pressed against the countertop.

Holding most of his weight up with his hands, he stared once more into the mirror and felt hatred well up within him. Hatred for the Republic, for the Sith, for Malak, for the Jedi – and then he realized that all he was really doing was blaming other people for his pain. He could blame others for his problems as much as he wanted to, but that wouldn't solve them. He could blame the Sith – the True Sith – for his decision to become Darth Revan, but that wouldn't change what he had done. And he could blame Malak for capturing Bastila and torturing her, but that wouldn't bring her back. That didn't mean he would let go of his hatred for them, however. Revan still hated Malak for who he was – a sick, spineless bastard who was going to pay for everything he had done to betray him, and everything he had done to hurt Bastila. He still hated the Republic for being the weak and pathetic parasite that it was. And his hatred for the Sith went without saying.

His introspection was cut short as he realized that his hand was still bleeding, and he sent just enough healing over it to stop the flow but not to mend the torn flesh.

No longer distracted, his thoughts resumed. Revan realized that his hatred was not solely directed at other people, but also at himself. He hated the part of him that would not go away – the part of his soul that was and would always be Darth Revan. Sometimes he felt like he was two different people, trapped inside of this one body he had been granted. Revan struggled with this much more than anyone knew, even more so than Bastila knew. Sometimes it was as if someone was screaming in his head, telling him that he was living a lie, trying to be who he was now. Screaming at him to just give in to the anger and resentment he held inside, locked away with all the rest of the pain and hurt he had suffered.

And when he did...he liked it.

He remembered all too well the rage that had gripped him on Kashyyyk when Bastila had been struck in the face. He remembered how he had relished the feeling of his blood pounding with that anger, fueling him and urging him on. And then, more recently, in Marko Ragnos' tomb, when his frustration and disappointment had finally boiled over...

Revan had notice on both occasions that though he was furious and dangerously volatile, it wasn't as if he had lost his mind. He was able to slip in and out of that state whenever he pleased, and was able to rid himself of the anger almost as suddenly as it usually came upon him. As he thought of this, he made it his goal to control his outbursts much more effectively than he had in the past.

A sudden banging on the door of the refresher made him jump.

"You alive in there, kid? You've been in there for a long time..."

It was Jolee.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he snapped. "You ever decided to just think about life while you're in the refresher?"

Jolee eyed him suspiciously as Revan opened the door and stepped out.

"What were you doing in there?"

Revan stared at the old man. "I just told you – I was thinking."

"I know that you've been stressed lately, and some people deal with that stress in different ways –"

"Just stop right there," Revan interrupted, holding up his hand. "Now what did you need me for?"

"I was just checking to make sure you weren't trying to commit suicide," the older man said in all seriousness, ruffled by the younger 'Jedi's' clipped tone.

"Is _that_ what you were going to say?" Revan groaned. "No, I'm not going to kill myself. I promise. What good would that do me?"

"Absolutely none."

"Exactly. And am I the kind of person to engage in pointless activity?"

"No."

"Right. So what are the odds of me trying to kill myself?"

"I'm going to hazard a guess at about thirty per cent," Jolee said, rubbing his chin and gazing upward.

"I despise you, old man," Revan muttered. The young man felt a sudden urge to tell _someone_ what he was going through but quickly shoved the idea back down into the furthest part of his mind that he could find.

"You okay?"

Revan gave Jolee an annoyed glance in the hope that it would deter the old man. "Fine," he grunted. "Where's Carth?"

"In the engine room, I think."

"Thanks."

Revan weaved his way through the corridors of the **_Ebon Hawk_** and stuck his head in the engine room, seeing the black boots that the Republic soldier wore and the edge of his orange flight-jacket behind a crate on the floor.

"Hey," he called. "How's it looking?"

"Like crap!" came the muffled response. Carth pushed himself out from the panel he had been working under. "Everything's fried. We need completely new parts."

"That's not what I needed to hear," the 'Jedi' said, his already discouraged attitude worsening.

"I know it sounds bad, but look on the bright side: with all of the downed ships around here, there's bound to be something I can rig to fix this engine," Carth replied.

"That requires exploring, doesn't it?"

Carth nodded, wiping the tool he had been using on an already greasy rag.

"Oh well. At least I like beaches."

- - -

Revan had been regretting ever letting those words slip past his lips for the past two hours, their explorations on the beach proving much more hassle than he had originally predicted. They had just finished dealing with their second ambush of Rakatan warriors – that's what they had been told the bloodthirsty savages were – and tempers were running short all around.

"Why can't I just find a bunch of nice beaches," Revan asked aloud to the sky, "with NO PSYCHOPATHS!"

"It's a law, Revan," Carth replied wearily. "Whatever _can_ go wrong _will_."

Revan merely grunted as he continued up the sandy beach, taking a left as he went and following the path that was before him. His Wookie companion followed second and Carth last, the trio coming to an abrupt halt as they emerged directly in front of a large number of Rakatan warriors and their four rancor pets. Revan muttered something incoherent under his breath and reached for his lightsabers, his hands gripping the hilts and activating them in the blink of an eye.

(Wait!) someone called out. Revan paused and stared expectantly at the group of aliens. The one who had spoken earlier stepped forward, almost timidly, and regarded him with fearful eyes, his gaze lingering on Revan's weapons – or was it his hands? The 'Jedi' couldn't tell.

(We do not mean you harm, human.)

(Oh really? So that's why I was ambushed twice back there?) Revan snapped back, not realizing he was speaking their language fluently.

(Accept our apologies for that. They were the perimeter scouting parties – the ones deeper inland realized who you were and came back to report to us.)

(So you're not trying to kill me?) he asked sardonically.

(That would be correct. Our leader, the One, he wishes to see you.)

(Fine,) Revan answered somewhat resignedly, (take me to him.)

As they were led across the expansive North beach, Revan felt Carth's hand enclose around his elbow and pull him back. He gave the pilot a quizzical look, and Carth returned it.

"How in the hell did you know what they were saying?" he said in a hushed tone.

"You mean you didn't?" Revan asked in surprise.

"No! I have no idea what just happened. You were speaking it too!"

Revan stared at him like he had finally lost it. "You're kidding, right?"

Carth shook his head solemnly. "No, I'm not. I stood there and listened to you speak that alien language perfectly."

"I –" Revan began, but was cut off as they entered an enormous, circular room with cages housing equally monstrous rancors all around them. Guards were posted at each of these cages, and wicker bins lined the walls where there was space. A lone Rakatan stood in the middle of the room, his air that of a leader who demands respect loyalty and who would not hesitate to slit the throat of a traitor. A dark smirk formed on Revan's lips as he mused that he knew what it was to be that kind of leader – demanding, unforgiving and cold. It was an effective tactic, but only as long as your subordinates stayed ignorant to the fact that weren't a god.

(So it is true,) the One spoke, turning an amused but distasteful gaze on the 'Jedi'. (The infamous Revan has returned! But I ask myself why, and cannot come up with a sufficient answer. Perhaps you will enlighten me.)

Revan felt an unfamiliar anxiety clench in his gut at the One's use of the word "returned." He had been here before? He frantically searched his memory for any fragments of what had transpired on this planet, but was rewarded only with frustration as he came up blank. Revan noticed that the One had now gained a smirk to match the haughtily amused gleam in his dark eyes.

(You look perplexed.)

(You would be too if your memory suddenly up and left you,) the 'Jedi' growled.

(I would suggest being more respectful in the future if you wish to stay alive very long,) the One said stiffly, the anger evident in his grey face. Revan's face split into a predatory grin, baring his canines in a most animalistic manner.

(I don't care who you are or how many people you rule or how big of an army you have,) he spat. (I know fear when I see it, and there is fear in your people's eyes when they look at me.)

(You're beginning to sound like the Revan I first met.) The One turned his head up slightly and stared above his guests as he spoke. (I remember how you ripped our language from me, even as you drove basic into my skull so we could communicate. I remember how you talked, promising to aid me, but you lied. There was always a shadow with your words – I could never take them for what they seemed to tell me. The same was with your bald friend, but he did not have the gift as you did.)

(Malak?)

(Yes, that was his name. Very imposing for a human – tall, capable, strongly built – but he followed you like a kath pup would follow the alpha male.)

(If there is something you wish to try and get out of me, I would rather you just ask me. I hate being backdoored,) Revan stated, getting the feeling that this was all pointless chatter.

(And why would you think I want something from _you_,) the One asked with a perfect façade of coolness.

(I can tell you don't like me. Apparently, I lied to you about something the first time I was here.)

(Your point?)

(I lied, but I get the feeling that the offer is still open,) Revan continued confidently. (There's something that you want more than anything else in this place, and I'm willing to bet that you'll give me a second chance to get it for you.)

The One allowed a smile to come upon his face. (You haven't changed at all, Revan. Still impatient, still headstrong, and still stupid.) The young 'Jedi' bristled at this, his eyes darkening with anger and his body becoming tense. (Oh please. You would be even more of a fool to attack me here – now – before I've even told you what it is I want.)

(I'm quite confident that I could rip it from your bloody throat,) Revan replied in a grunt. This alien's condescending attitude was clawing at his last nerve and he was already in a very disagreeable mood. (Besides, that was three years ago. I can promise you that I've changed since then.)

(Growing older doesn't mean one grows up.)

(Spouting wise-ass remarks doesn't make one wise.)

The One grinned at Revan's comeback. (I suppose it doesn't, does it? No,) he said, answering his own question. (But tell me, why should I give you another chance at the task I asked of you during your first visit, Revan?)

(You won't be giving me anything. You wanted to see me, and I came. I'm not your puppet.)

(Aren't you?) the One asked, pacing back and forth. (Let me explain the rules to you: if you accept my request and complete it, I will aid you in getting off of this planet, which is what I know you wish to do. If you refuse my offer...then I'll kill you.)

Revan raised an eyebrow. (If you think I'm afraid of you, then you're sadly mistaken my friend. You couldn't kill me if you wanted to. Not when I can do this,) he extended a hand and froze a passing Rakata in mid-stride, (and there's nothing you can do to defend against it.) The One's eyes narrowed and he knew that he had hit a weakness. (But,) he continued, (since I _would_ like to get off of this planet, I'll hear out your offer.)

The One stared a little longer at the static Rakata before shifting his gaze to meet Revan's. (There is another tribe on this island called the Elders. They are a technologically advanced tribe, and they possess a tome that I wish to have. Did you see the large temple as you crashed?) Revan nodded. (They know how to get into that temple, and the tome that I want contains the same information. If I have the tome, I can get inside the temple. The task is simple: get the tome for me.)

(Why do you want to get inside the temple?)

(That is my business,) the One said coldly, signaling the end of that discussion.

Revan thought for a moment, weighing his options. At the moment, he had no other way to get off of the world they had crashed on, and he didn't wish to have a war on his hands by refusing the One's offer.

(Fine,) he said, coming to a conclusion. (I'll get your tome.)

(Very good. While you are here, feel free to look around. You visited our historian last time you were here, and may do so again if you wish,) the One replied with a barely concealed smugness. Revan resorted to clenching his fists to keep his temper in check and walked as fast as he could – his pace bordering on a jog – to get out of the Rakatan complex.

"If that idiot thinks he can push me around, he's got another thing coming – my lightsaber up his ass," he muttered as the trio kicked up sand. His temper increased as he realized something important. "I didn't even bother to ask where this other settlement was!"

(I would guess as far away from this one as possible; it's probably on the southern end of the island,) Zaalbar suggested.

"You're probably right," Carth agreed. "Hey, are you okay?"

Revan glanced at his friend. "Do I look like I'm okay?"

"No."

"Then what do you think my answer to your question will be?"

"A no."

"Good job."

"You know what it really meant, Revan. Stop being stupid and avoiding the question," Carth said irritably.

"Why do you want to know what's bothering me? It's not affecting you," Revan shot back.

"No, it _is_ affecting me. It's affecting all of us. And we can't help you if we don't know what's wrong."

"Has it ever occurred to you that I might not want your help?" Revan snapped angrily, regretting it as soon as he saw the look on Carth's face. Stopping, he apologized. "I didn't mean that," he said quietly.

"Revan...having problems and doubts doesn't mean you're weak. It means you're human."

The 'Jedi' ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. "I know that..." He smiled ruefully. "This is what you must've felt like after Saul bombed Telos," he said. "Helpless and angry."

"Yeah," Carth agreed, "Yeah, I felt helpless, but that's only because I was. You aren't."

"Hn," was all that the younger man said, turning and walking along the beach again, this time, along a different path. So absorbed in his own thoughts was he that he barely noticed the unfortunate gizka that suddenly exploded twenty feet in front of him. Shocked back into reality, the 'Jedi' brought his full attention to the area around him and quickly notice a large amount of mines.

"As sorry as I feel for that gizka, I am _very_ glad he blew up," he commented, gingerly approaching a mine and disarming it.

(Poor, stupid creature,) Zaalbar agreed.

"Hey," Carth said, interrupting, "is that a pile of parts?"

Revan's eyes followed in the direction that Carth's finger was pointing. "I can't tell from here. Hold on, I'll check it out."

As Revan ducked under the large piece of metal that hung off of the massive ship that was crashed in this area, he exhaled in frustration. He could see the mines that were surrounding the parts and silently cursed the people that had put them there. Setting about his task, he disarmed three mines before Zaalbar's rough growl cut into his concentration.

(Revan stop!)

The former Sith Lord halted all movement. "What's wrong?"

(You're about to trigger that plasma mine. I will take care of it, but you mustn't move.)

"Sure thing," he grumbled. Revan watched as the Wookie carefully stepped around him and started working on the very mine he had just been trying to disable. It had been designed to require two people to do the job, but presented as a simple configuration easy enough for one man to attempt.

(Done,) Zaalbar said when he was finished.

"What kind of death could I have expected if you hadn't have caught that?" Revan asked while motioning for Carth to join them.

(A very painful one. The plasma mine would have spit molten hot plasma onto your body and you probably would have, in essence, melted to death,) the Wookie replied.

"Right. Thank you doesn't cut it then, but it's all I've got right now."

Zaalbar gave Revan a gentle smile. (My life debt means I must protect you. I am only fulfilling my duty.)

Carth had now joined them, and the 'Jedi' addressed his friend. "You think you'll be alright if we leave you alone and scout ahead?"

"Sure. I'll get all the parts I can out of this pile. D'you want me to join you up ahead?"

"Unless one of us comes back and tells you differently. Let's go Zaalbar."

The path extended straight ahead of them but made a sharp left at one point; Revan and Zaalbar were cautiously making their way along the straight section and halted as they rounded the corner.

"So..." he said in a near whisper, "which one do you want Zaalbar?"

(I am indifferent.) There was a pause. (And I hate choosing first.)

Revan saw that the Wookie had a large grin plastered on his furry muzzle. "Well...I don't think we're going to have much of a choice." He pointed ahead of them. "They've noticed us."

The two rancors that had been patrolling the area had finally noticed the intruders, and were now snorting and growling, kicking up sand in preparation for a charge. Zaalbar tossed Bacca's blade up in the air and caught it expertly, the sword now pointing behind him instead of in front, and Revan knew what the Wookie was going to do. He copied his companion, igniting his violet lightsaber and holding it the same way, giving Zaalbar a small nod to indicate he understood. Returning their attention to the rancors, they saw that the two beasts were lumbering at them at a surprisingly fast speed, and they both sunk into a ready position, their knees bent and prepared for a sudden change of direction. They held their ground, waiting until the rancors were mere feet from them and then spun toward the creatures, ducking the swipes of beasts' claws as they did so and cutting deeply into the front of the creatures' legs. As they continued to spin, both Revan and Zaalbar flipped their blades back to hold them in the normal grip and slashed at the rancors' legs again, their weapons biting into the animals' hamstrings. The two males quickly finished off their quarry, Revan by severing the rancor's head from his body, Zaalbar by impaling his sword into the other beast's skull.

Revan looked up at the sky with an uneasy air, but his face was blank, almost as if his thoughts were somewhere else. "That got dark very fast," he commented, sounding distracted and like he wasn't really referring to the sky.

"Yeah, it did."

Revan's eyes focused on Carth for a split second, registering that he had rejoined them before flicking back up to the sky and searching. Carth and Zaalbar watched him with curious interest, but he gave no signs as to why he was doing this.

"I'm looking at the Star Forge," he said finally, after they had continued to stare at him expectantly for another few minutes.

"You can tell which one it is?" Carth meant out of the bright specks of light, the planets and stars that dotted the sky.

He nodded.

"How?"

He shrugged, turning away from the dark bluish expanse and looking across the sandy beach in front of him. Another settlement was quite near them, this one without Rakatan warriors milling around in front of it, but more imposing nonetheless. A ring of lightning jumped from small pillars constructed around the complex, a single path allowed by having a solitary junction free of lightning. The space looked ominously inviting, but Revan entered into the ring of lightning anyway, ignoring the unspoken warning. When he had come as far as the defensive electricity would allow, he stopped and waited, knowing it was no longer his move. Within a few seconds, a holographic image of a Rakatan appeared and spoke.

(What is your purpose here?)

Revan thought carefully for the correct answer to the question. If the Elders were technologically advanced, then they would most likely have knowledge about the Star Forge. After all, it floated above their planet.

(I'm looking for the Star Forge,) he replied calmly, but there was an undertone of simmering rage in his voice. It had been there since they crashed on this planet, and it was practically begging to get out, but Revan knew why he felt this way, so he kept his anger shoved down – Malak wasn't going to be spared any of his wrath.

(What is your name?) the projection asked.

He didn't hesitate. (My name,) he said, (is Revan.)

- - -

Every bone in her body ached and the pounding in her skull was almost too much to bear. It felt as if someone was bashing her head against the floor again and again and was trying to split it in two. A feeble groan escaped her lips as she felt _it_ return.

The anger. The burning hatred that was slowly reaching all the way to her core.

She wasn't stupid. There was no way that she was going to give herself to this evil, but if she was going to get out of this situation, then she was going to have to play along – at least for a little while.

She knew this, and it was the beginning of her downfall. It opened her up to becoming corrupted by the Dark side – something that she had foolishly believed herself to be strong enough to resist on her own.

She heard the sound of doors opening but didn't turn her head. She knew who it was.

"Bastila," the rasping, mechanical voice said with an unmistakable glee in it. "How are we feeling today?"

Bastila didn't reply – there was no point.

"You know," Malak continued, the twisted delight he was getting from this increasing, "I wonder why the Jedi Council hasn't sent a rescue party for you yet."

Malak watched as Bastila's icy, blue-grey eyes slid to him and stared at him with the utmost hatred. "They don't know I'm here. You know that," she said, her voice barely audible after a week of screaming.

"Yes, you're right. I can't help but notice, however, that Revan _does_."

The pain in her eyes was instantly recognizable at the mention of Revan's name.

"I wonder why it's taking him so long. I know that he cared deeply for you – or at least, I thought he did. Doesn't seem like it, does it?"

Bastila's mind fought against Malak's words – she knew they weren't true – but she was so tired...and why else would it be taking Revan so long? Part of her reminded Bastila that she didn't know Revan, the real Revan, the one that had existed before her strike team had boarded his ship and Malak had nearly killed him. She had no idea what he was capable of...and he would've come by now, wouldn't he?

"I see that you agree," Malak's voice said, cutting through her muddled thoughts. "You wouldn't be the first that Revan's left behind. After he became a Sith, of course. I couldn't tell you how many women he had, because I stopped keeping track after a while. The one time I tried to offer one..." the Sith Lord brought a hand to his nose, "...well, that is another matter. My point is, you are not the first beautiful woman Revan has had. Emotional attachments were the last thing on his mind...so what makes you think you are special to him? He can be very charming when he wants to be, as I'm sure you've seen. I've seen it as well, a hundred times before. He makes you feel like you are his, like you mean more to him than anything else, doesn't he? Like he won't ever leave you and he'll keep you safe, no matter what?"

Bastila felt tears welling in her eyes as Malak spoke. If Revan had no qualms about leaving other women, how did she know that he would stay with her?

**NO! **her mind screamed. **You've seen the sincerity in his eyes! You've seen how protective he is of you! The old Revan might have been like that, but not this one.**

"Ah, you're telling yourself that he's changed, aren't you?" Malak asked, a grin evident even through his metal jaw. She was playing right into his hands. "Tell me then, how can a man like Revan, who was the most morally upright, compassionate, courageous man you would have ever met before the Mandalorian Wars turn into a brutal, cold-blooded murderer? It's only possible if those traits were there to begin with. Revan isn't the man you know. The Jedi brainwashed him to be their puppet, and they suppressed all of his old personality. Now that he knows who he is, rest assured that his real self will come back with ease."

He paused, seeing that exhaustion was threatening to envelop her, and electrocuted her mercilessly. Her scream echoed throughout the metal room, reaching past the walls and into the hallways, many soldiers hearing the cry and turning their heads.

"He's not coming for you, Bastila," Malak said harshly. "He's coming to try and kill me. You know this. Tell me, what have you felt of him through your bond?"

Bastila felt herself believing what Malak had said of Revan's motive as she replied as best she could. "Anger...ha...hatred...fear."

"Love? Concern? Worry?"

She shook her head feebly.

"See? I know Revan. He wants to kill me, and that is the only thought in his mind right now. He's left you to me, just like you should have left him to die."

Those words hit a raw spot inside of her, and she felt her anger swelling. She had saved his life once...didn't that mean anything to him?

"I can help you repay him for what he's done. I don't want to kill you, my dear. I never did. You have something I want, something I need, and I believe that I now have something you want as well."

Bastila's eyes clouded with uncertainty, her sleep deprived brain struggling to remember what she knew was right and wrong. All she could feel was what she was feeling at this very moment, and it felt right. The anger inside of her...she couldn't remember where it had come from, but now it had a reason to be there: Revan.

He had lied to her. He wasn't any different than before.

**But he _is_ different, you kno –**

Her brain ceased to function rationally as Malak forced her to endure another agonizing electrocution.

"I have something you want." he repeated firmly. The Sith Lord used a small bit of the Force to make sure Bastila agreed with his next words. "_Revan betrayed you, didn't he?_"

With no way to draw upon the Force to block his strong persuasion due to a Force restraining collar, Bastila heard herself say "Yes."

Malak's despicable grin returned. After a solid week of no sleep, he was slowly breaking her. Now he had Bastila exactly where he wanted her: so exhausted and angry that she was susceptible to Force persuasion.

Now all he had to do was focus that anger in the proper direction...

* * *

Okay, here are the lyrics for these two songs, as I don't actually have them myself, I just found them and thought they went along with the story at least somewhat. 

The Linkin Park song is for Revan, Evanescence is for Bastila.

**Part of Me - Linkin Park**

Part of me won't go away  
Everyday reminded how much I hate it  
Weighted against the consequences  
Can't live without it so it's senseless  
Wanna cut it out of my soul  
And just live with a gaping hole  
Take control of my life  
And wash out all the burnt taste  
I made the problems in the first place  
Hang my head low 'cause it's part of me  
Ya hardly see right next to the heart of me  
Heard of me the routine scar  
New cuts cover where the old ones are  
And now I'm sick of this  
I can't stand the sandpaper thoughts that grade on my sanity  
I rather not even be then the man that's staring in the mirror through me

_Pre chorus_  
Cut myself free willingly  
Sstop just what's killing me _x4_

I feel it everyday  
I feel I made my way  
I feel it swell up inside, swell up inside  
Swallowing me

Freedom can be frightening if you've never felt it  
Once it's been dealt with you feel like you've been touched by something angelic  
And then melted down into a pool of peace  
Cease to be the animal you used to be  
Remove the broken parts you know were wrong  
And feel the karma when the problem's all gone  
And then you start to see another piece of yourself that you can't let be  
Memories of the last fight to free yourself  
Take it to the depths of the bottom of the well  
And now you know you can choose to lose the part in your heart  
Where your insides bruised  
You can live if you're willing to  
Put a stop to just what's killing you

_Pre chorus x4_

_Chorus_

(Alive in me, inside of me, a part of me screams away silently  
This part of me won't go away, part of me won't go away  
Everywhere I look around I see how everyone aught to be  
Every time I see myself I see there's always something wrong with me)

_Chorus x2_  
I feel it swell up inside, swell up inside, swallowing me _x2_

**Away From Me - Evanescence**

I hold my breath as this life starts to take its toll  
I hide behind a smile as this perfect plan unfolds  
But oh, God, I feel I've been lied to  
Lost all faith in the things I have achieved  
And I

_CHORUS:_  
I've woken now to find myself  
In the shadows of all I have created  
I'm longing to be lost in you  
(away from this place I have made)  
Won't you take me away from me

Crawling through this world as disease flows through my veins  
I look into myself, but my own heart has been changed  
I can't go on like this  
I loathe all I've become

_Chorus_

Lost in a dying world I reach for something more  
I have grown so weary of this lie I live

_Chorus_


	17. Chapter 17

Okay, well it's been a little while since my last update, and for that, I apologize. AAU basketball season has started, and that means I have no spare time. Anyway, I felt that I should respond to some of the reviews I've received during the interim between the last update and this one.

No names, just responses. I'm tired.

Thank you to all of the people who have graciously submitted song ideas, as I have found many of them to be near or exactly what I am looking for. I will be using some of the songs soon!

Compliments are always welcome (I'm a sucker for 'em) but I do appreciate the constructive criticism as well - without it, I'd never get better. Someone commented on Bastila's passiveness, and brought it to my attention, and for that, I thank you. As for your questions, no I didn't entirely mean to make her more passive, it kind of just happened, but it was partly meant to be like that. I think I went a little too far though, but the world's not going to end. And about the anatomy and physiology stuff - it's all me! I love anatomy to death, and I find it fun to use it for many reasons, sometimes to give the reader a better idea of what's going on, and sometimes just to make it more visceral.

I'm trying to be detailed, but battle scenes can just get so boring to write...so I'm very sorry if they come across as such, or if they don't seem up to par. From this part of the game on, I have had a harder time completely expressing emotional conflict/ and or motives for mood swings, but I hope that I did all right. Some of the things I have purposefully left ambiguous, as humans are very hard to understand sometimes, and I think that I shouldn't have to explain everything that someone does - it kind of takes away from the humanness of it all.

Recommended song: "The Art of Subconscious Illusion" by Avenged Sevenfold.

P.S. Revan gets a little combustible-happy in this chapter. I had much fun with the whole "Set You on Fire" Force power.

* * *

The holographic image seemed to be processing this information, and there was a moment where Revan believed that it had been unwise to state his true name. But the hologram simply disappeared – and so did the lightning that blocked their path – and the doors of the Elder Settlement opened before them. He stepped in cautiously, surveying everything with his perceptive, calculating green eyes. 

(_Revan_,) he heard an Elder's voice state derisively. Whoever it was obviously didn't like him.

(Tell us, why have you come back after all of this time? Surely there is nothing more you can take from us,) another Elder said.

(Quiet!) a third one admonished, turning his attention to Revan and extending his hand. (I believe this is the greeting you used last time.)The 'Jedi' shook the Rakatan's hand, his gaze never leaving the two Elders behind the alien he was greeting.

(Please, ignore them,) the more amiable Elder said, almost fearfully.

(Why do I get the feeling I've been here before?) Revan asked. (Wait – don't tell me. I came asking about the Star Forge.)

All of the three Rakatans looked perplexed. (Yes, you did,) the one he had been talking to the most replied, continuing to speak for the rest.

(That's what I thought.) Revan crossed his arms in front of his chest, resting one elbow on the lower arm and bringing his hand up to rub the goatee on the bottom of his chin. (You're going to have to forgive me. Between the time I first visited and now, I was robbed of my memories. What exactly did I do while I was here?)

(Robbed of your memories? How is that possible?) one of the more silent Elders exclaimed.

(When you have an entire Jedi Council wishing for you to forget who you are, it becomes quite possible,) Revan answered cynically. (My previous visit...?) he pressed.

(Ah, yes,) the friendliest Elder said. (The first time you came, you met our rivals, the other Rakatan Settlement before you reached us. Their leader, the One, had already made a proposal to you: he wanted an ancient tome that we have, and he wished to use it to get inside the temple that is on this island's grounds. You had originally agreed to get the tome for him, but when you came to us, and when we agreed to let you go inside the temple and deactivate the force field that it creates around this world so you could take off in your ship, you abandoned the idea of getting our tome and simply used our help.)

(I'm not understanding why your friends have such an apparent dislike for me then,) Revan stated, seeing no wrong done to this settlement.

(Well, you lied to us, you see. You promised that you would destroy the Star Forge, and that you would go inside of the temple alone, which is the rule. You broke that rule, taking your very bald friend with you, and you slew all of our men who had assisted you in getting into the temple if they protested. You corrupted the temple with your followers, and you threatened us with the same fate if we were to try and stop you from leaving and taking the Star Forge for yourself,) the Elder explained.

Revan covered his eyes with the hand that had previously been resting on his chin, not surprised in the least that he had been capable of such a thing, but ashamed of it nevertheless. (I apologize for my actions...I was wrong, and so were they.) He sighed, and his tone became almost pleading. (I know you're not going to believe me, but I need you to trust me one more time. I have been approached by the One with the same offer as before, but I'm finding that I trust him even less than I'm sure you trust me. I will do whatever you ask of me to prove my sincerity in this.)

(You must be insane if you think we'll listen to you again!) one of the Elders spat.

(I must be,) Revan replied quietly, a cheerless smile upturning one corner of his mouth.

(What reason do we have to trust you, Revan?)

(You don't. But I'm asking you to judge me by my actions, not my words.)

The three Elders looked at one another, seemingly debating this issue.

(Wait here. We must discuss this amongst ourselves.)

The 'Jedi' nodded, watching as the Elders disappeared into a large room just behind them. He sighed as the doors closed, wondering how he could be so callous – and stupid. Then again, he never would have expected to be captured and brainwashed, not to mention sent on the exact same mission he had already gone on once before – this time, with the Jedi Council's help.

(Fine. We will give you one task – there is one of our own, an Elder taken captive by the One. We wish for you to bring him back,) The friendly Elder said as the three Rakatans emerged from the room. (This will most likely involve you killing the One, as he is not very reasonable.)

(And let me guess, I'll then have the whole settlement on my ass?)

(Eh...yes. "On your ass," as you have so aptly put it.)

"Great," Revan muttered in Basic, then, switching back to Rakatan, (I'll be back when I have your man.)

(Please,) the Elder said hurriedly, (Do not venture out – not at this late hour. Our settlement is open to you, and it would be better if you stayed here overnight. You look like you've been through much in a short time.)

Revan raised an eyebrow at the Elder, who shrugged.

(Our people were once Force sensitive, but that trait has long since faded. But perhaps it isn't as dead as we believe, as we are very attuned to the state of others.)

(Well you're right,) Revan said. (But why are you letting me stay? I betrayed you before...)

(It is not our right to turn away someone in need. And I believe you need more than just rest.) The alien waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. (But we can talk more of this tomorrow. For now, follow Ll'awa – he will take you to your quarters.)

A Rakatan looking almost exactly the same as the others stepped up from behind the three Elders and gave a quick bow.

(Please, come,) he said, sweeping his hand in front of him to allow them to go first. Ll'awa walked alongside Revan, who was in the front of the group.

(I can't say that you'd get many visitors,) the 'Jedi' commented as the alien led them down a curved hallway. He noted the warm, orange tone of the rock that served as the building material for the settlement, and against his better judgment, he felt himself beginning to relax.

(We don't,) Ll'awa replied, (and that is precisely why I am so excited to see you again!)

Revan glanced at Carth who was trying to suppress a chuckle at the alien's amusing exuberance. He turned his attention back to their guide. (Is that so?)

(Yes!) Ll'awa nodded his head vigorously. (The first time you came, I was not able to ask you about your affinity to the Force, as you were...ah...)

Revan sensed that the Rakatan didn't want to offend him by telling him what he was like during his first visit. (It's all right. I don't remember any of that, so I would rather like to hear about myself from your point of view.)

Ll'awa gave him a swift, hesitant glance but nodded even so. (I understand. It is just that I did not want to anger you in case that was something you didn't wish to hear. Your volatile temper has not been forgotten, even after all of this time.)

They had reached their room, and Revan was surprised to see that it was large and comfortably furnished. It was equipped with four good-sized single beds on one wall, a large table with chairs and two couches along the other wall, and there were two droids floating in opposite corners of the room.

(Why are you so technologically advanced, while your brother Rakata are barbarians?) he asked, not seeing how half of a society like this could just collapse.

(If you wish to know the history of our people, I would suggest talking to Keeper Orsaa. He knows it much better than I, and can tell a tale that will keep you enraptured for hours. I would only succeed in making it long and boring,) Ll'awa said with a smile. (I would like to ask you a few questions, if I may,) he added.

Revan had begun to peruse the room, checking the beds and footlockers, and he was currently holding up a pair of clothes that looked as if they would fit him perfectly.

(How did you...?)

Ll'awa's smile became excited again. (It is incredible, no? Our technology is capable of regeneration on its own, and we have modified it to be able to create synthetic materials such as clothing within seconds. It is not a new addition, but in never fails to amaze me.)

(How did you know to make it this size?)

(It is the technology,) Ll'awa explained. (It is self-sufficient, and is almost capable of operating on its own. It is not self-aware, however, and therefore will never rise up and revolt, as other technologies that have intelligence are prone to doing.)

(The Force runs through it,) Revan stated.

Their new friend nodded. (Yes. As the councilors already mentioned, we were once Force sensitive. But no longer,) he said sadly. (That is why I am so glad you are back, though! I wish to speak to you about the Force.)

"Whoa!"

Everyone turned to look at Carth, who had practically melted into one of the beds in the room and had a look of utter bliss on his face.

"This is the most comfortable thing I've ever felt in my life!" he exclaimed.

Revan shook his head at his pilot friend and moved to sit in one of the chairs, sinking into it and beginning to remove his armor.

(What do you want to know about the Force?) the 'Jedi' inquired as he undid the clasps that held the material and armor together.

(What is it like, to be connected like that?)

Revan thought for a while, trying to come up with the best description he could for Ll'awa. (It's like...your senses are alive. Like you're seeing for the very first time,) he said, remembering what it felt like to reconnect with the Force while he was on Dantooine. (You feel every living thing as a part of you, and in turn, you are a part of it. It's a gentle pulse that flows through you.) He paused, his expression darkening. (It isn't always a good thing, though.)

(What do you mean?) Ll'awa asked, perplexed.

Revan gave him an ironic smile. (Here I am, getting ready to preach about the Dark side, when I'm the one who fell...) He snorted a quiet laugh and finished undressing himself, now in his undergarments that were like skintight breeches, and got up from the chair, grabbing the clothes that had been provided to put them on. He stopped, thinking of a better idea. (Do you have a refresher?)

(A what?) Ll'awa asked, confused by Revan's choice of words. He seemed to be ignoring the fact that Revan was half-naked.

(A...shower? Someplace I can bathe?)

(Oh! Oh yes, I remember that word now. Yes, we do. It is through this door,) Ll'awa replied.

Revan nodded his thanks and returned to his earlier subject. (Do you remember how I acted when I first came here?)

(I don't believe I can forget that, Revan.)

Revan's face registered an unreadable emotion. (Tell me what I was like.)

(As always, you were confident. Charismatic. We believed everything you said, simply because you sounded so sincere. But we all sensed that there was something different, almost like a shadow that hung over you. After a short while, it became apparent that you were ruthless and merciless; you had a sadistic temper that was easily triggered and not as easily pacified. Killing meant nothing to you, nor did betrayal, and we experienced that firsthand,) Ll'awa related in a quiet voice.

(That is why being sensitive to the Force is not always a good thing. I was corrupted, like you said, and I was corrupted by the Dark side of the Force. It twisted me into something I wasn't, and caused me to harm millions of people with my actions. Actions that I am now trying to make up for,) Revan spoke.

(I see,) Ll'awa replied in a semi-awed tone. (Thank you, Revan. If you wish to use the refresher now, I will leave you in peace.)

(Wait, I had one more question.)

Ll'awa stopped and waited patiently.

(This planet, what's it called?)

(Rakata Prime.)

Revan blinked, wondering how he hadn't made that connection. (Thank you, Ll'awa. I'll let you get back to your research.)

The friendly alien bowed again and exited the trio's room in his usual rapid, excited manner. Zaalbar made a noise that sounded like a laugh and shook his furry head at the Rakatan's personality.

"I call the refresher second," Carth said sarcastically, knowing full well that Zaalbar didn't bathe. "It was sure nice of you to strip for our friend," he added.

Revan smiled distractedly as he stepped inside the surprisingly large room with his new outfit and took in his surroundings. The refresher was huge, almost equal in size to their room, and it contained four showers, each separated by a semi-thick wall of rust colored stone. Opposite the showers was a mirror stretching the length of the wall, though it was currently opaque. Revan was impressed as he set his clothes down on the counter next to him and approached the panel that was next to the water nozzle. After a brief moment of confusion over the many buttons on the panel, he entered how hot he wanted the water to be, how much pressure was to be behind it, and the angle at which he wished for it to come out of the nozzle. The water started pouring out immediately, and Revan quickly stripped himself of the last piece of clothing he owned, stepping under the wonderfully steaming-hot liquid. He just stood there for a few minutes letting the pulsating water slam into his body, massaging his tired and aching muscles. His mind drifted to Bastila and the bond that they shared – and the horrible void that he had felt a scant hour before when he had reached out to her. She was still there, but everything felt twisted somehow, and he had only been able to keep their connection for a few seconds before it disappeared as if she had shut him out. Revan grunted as something of his own body caught his attention – a brand new scar.

"Great," he muttered, his gaze traveling along the thin line that circled his waist, most prominent on his hips. He knew what it was from: the torture he had been subjected to aboard the **_Leviathan_**. His body was a testament to the suffering he had been through, and he had all of the scars to prove it. Looking at the palms of his hands and his fingers, he saw the thin white lines that peppered his skin, marking where he had shed blood at one time or another, and he knew that the rest of him was a similar picture. The only one that was readily visible to all who saw him was the narrow line that ran down his cheek from the outside of his right eye, but there were many more than met the public view.

Sighing, Revan grabbed a washcloth that was sitting on a step near him in the monstrous shower and rubbed the soap that had been provided into the cloth, creating lather. He sniffed the soap and was pleased with the scent, identifying it as sandalwood rose.

"My favorite," he said, sarcastically peppy, speaking to the reddish-orange stone wall that was staring back at him. Once finished with his scrub down, Revan washed his hair and rinsed, switching off the water nozzle and stepping away from it, toweling off and plodding over to the large mirror that covered one of the walls. The murky haze that polluted the glass cleared as he approached it. He had become accustomed to the reflection that stared back at him, and was not surprised in the least when he saw the same hard eyes and residual frown on his face. Retrieving his clothes, he slipped into them, noting that there were made of a shockingly soft fabric.

"Refresher's ready," he said as he passed Carth on the way back into their room, reaching his bed and sitting on the edge, his elbows propped up on his knees and his face resting in his hands. He stayed like this for a few minutes, listening to the sound of the shower starting and the water slapping against the floor.

(You are troubled.)

Revan glanced up at Zaalbar who was looking at him intently with a worried expression. "I'm fine," he lied, staring back down at the floor and taking notice of the intricate pattern that adorned the stones.

(If you do not wish to talk, I will understand,) the Wookiee said graciously, giving his friend a way out.

"It's not that I don't _want_ to talk, Zaalbar...it's just that I don't know what to say," the 'Jedi' explained. "All of this is happening so fast..."

(I would imagine this is hard for you,) the Wookiee speculated.

"I guess it's better that I haven't had much time to sit and think about all of this, really. I might not be able to keep it together if stopped to try and deal with it all," Revan confessed.

(You will have to face it eventually.)

The young man sighed heavily. "Don't remind me." He stood and pulled back the sheets from the bed, climbing in and yanking them up to his waist. "I'm going to sleep. Or at least I'm going to _try_ to," he said sullenly.

(Sleep well, friend,) Zaalbar said quietly. (You deserve it.)

After a reasonable amount of time, the Wookiee saw that his friend had fallen into a restless, fitful slumber and wished that there was something he could do. Carth came out of the refresher a few minutes later and gave Revan a pitying glance, his face showing how both of them felt.

"Not sleeping again?" the Republic pilot asked.

Zaalbar shook his head. (He never does. I don't think I've seen him get a full night's rest since I first met him.)

"He hasn't had one. If we weren't being attacked by Sith he was having one of his visions or something," Carth replied.

(I don't know how he's still sane.)

"Vin – ah, _Revan_ is a much stronger man that he lets on." Carth had almost called him by his alias that had been given to him by the Jedi Council. That hadn't happened in a while. "I think he's also much more troubled than he lets on, too."

(He will find a way to face his demons, Carth. Let him do it in his own time,) the Wookiee said, gently reminding his friend not to be overbearing. (Revan is a prideful man. He doesn't want us to know that he isn't as confident and sure of himself as his façade suggests. When he is comfortable, he will come to us, but until then, leave him to himself.)

Carth sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. "He's trying so hard to keep it together for the rest of us...there must be _something_ we can do for him."

(Support him. Let him know that you're standing by him throughout all of this. That is all he needs.)

The Republic soldier didn't reply. He was already under the sheets of his bed, and beginning to slowly drift into unconsciousness. Zaalbar simply rested his head against the wall behind him and fell into a light slumber not too long after Carth.

Revan sat up quietly, his gaze moving slowly between his two companions. He had awaked shortly before Carth had come out of the refresher. He felt a tightness in his chest at their concern and thanked the Force that he had friends like them – true friends who had stayed with him even after they knew who he used to be.

**Who I used to be...who I still am, it's all alike. I may not be the same man, but that part of me is still here**, he thought for the second time in as many days.

Falling back against the bed, Revan rolled to his side and closed his eyes. His thoughts became muddled as darkness began to take him again, though he was unwilling to give himself completely to sleep.

- - -

"Hey, Revan...you need to get up man."

The 'Jedi' rolled away from the hand that was shaking him – and landed hard on the cool stone floor. He moaned at the rough awakening and picked himself up off the floor gingerly, disentangling himself from the sheets and stretching languidly.

"Ah...what time is it?"

"About 10:35. And it's Satunda, by the way."

Revan's head snapped around. "What! It's not halfway through the week!"

Carth looked down at the floor. "Yeah...it is."

The 'Jedi' groaned and covered his eyes with his hand. "Nearly three weeks," he muttered. "There's no way...my fault, dammit."

Carth glanced at Zaalbar while Revan continued to talk to himself. The Republic soldier cleared his throat loudly, getting his young friend's attention.

"Sorry. Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Well, I was going to suggest we get moving," Carth answered.

"Oh? I was thinking we could just sit on our butts and do nothing today – you know, just chill...take a break," Revan replied mordantly.

"I was being serious."

"I wasn't."

"You know, this pissy little mood you've been in for the past couple weeks is really starting to grate on my nerves!"

Carth had _not_ slept well.

"Well, if you'd just shut up and stop bothering me –"

"What, so you can mope around and pity yourself?" Carth spat, earlier resentment that he thought he had let go of surfacing, courtesy of his snappish mood and lack of sleep.

Revan's eyes showed the hurt he felt at that statement for a brief second before becoming closed off again. "You have no idea what I'm going through, so don't even presume to think that you would be any better than me," he growled in a low voice.

(Ignore him, Revan. His insecurities are none of your concern,) Zaalbar warned, seeing that a heated argument was impending.

"I thought you had come to grips with the fact that I was Darth Revan," the 'Jedi' spoke, a hint of anger and bitterness in his tone.

"In this short of a time? You must be delusional."

"No, not delusional. Trusting. I don't consider myself a spineless deserter like you are."

"I've never deserted anyone in my life!"

"Is that so?" Revan asked darkly. "So where were you when I needed encouragement? You were in your little cockpit, sulking to yourself about how unfair it was that Darth Revan, the man who was responsible for the death of your wife and, presumably, your son – me, a former Dark Lord of the Sith – could be a trustworthy, loyal friend! Tell me how that doesn't count!" He continued to rant, cutting off Carth's response. "And yet here you stand before me, with the _gall_ to try and say that _you_ are a better man than I am? I've made some mistakes, I will admit that. I have made some of the worst mistakes I can make, and I've cost the galaxy millions of lives! Do you know how hard it is to live with that, knowing that I am nothing more than a mass murderer? No, you don't, because you've never had do more than you were ordered to as a grunt!"

Revan spun around and stalked out of the room, his body seething with anger.

"Revan, wait! I didn't...ah, dammit!"

Zaalbar watched him go with a strange feeling of empathy – the Wookiee knew what it was like to be utterly rejected and alone, disowned by your people and abandoned by your friends. And, though Zaalbar wasn't fully aware of it, that was what had happened to Revan. He had attempted to make the Republic stronger and fortify them from the impending doom he had discovered, and they, in turn, abandoned him, claiming he was mad and a pawn of the Dark side.

"I really screwed that up, didn't I?" the Republic soldier asked, his eyes on the floor.

(Would you like the truth, or a lie?) Carth's face showed true apology, so the Wookiee became fully serious. (Just leave him alone. Like I said, when he wants to come to us, he will. And you really must forgive him, Carth. He doesn't want to be Darth Revan any more than we want him to.)

"But...I thought I _had_ forgiven him. I really did." Carth sighed. "I must've been wrong," he muttered.

- - -

Revan's fast pace and driving steps continued all the way outside, carrying him to the edge of the cliffs that were to the east of the Elder Settlement. Frustrated, he picked up a small boulder with the Force and flung it out into the sea as far as he could hurl it, keeping his eyes on it as it flew through the air and landed in the beautiful, tropical-blue water with a tremendous splash. He slumped tiredly against the rock wall next to him, his back on the cool organic material, his head turned to the right to gaze out at the vast expanse of water that stretched as far as his eyes could see.

So Carth was still bitter about his identity as Dark Lord of the Sith. Why was he not surprised? If worst came to worst, Revan would have no qualms about trusting the Republic soldier with his life – and he knew that Carth would never let him down like that – but the man _refused_ to trust him. And Revan couldn't figure out why. He knew that Carth didn't hand out trust easily, but this was borderline ridiculous. Revan had tried to prove himself to his friend, and it hurt him to find that the soldier _still_ didn't have faith in him. Looking up at the vast sky, his thoughts shifted to Bastila again and he felt a cold dread seeping through him. Somehow, she seemed so close right now, but at the same time, she was further than she had ever been from him. He sensed that in true distance, she wasn't far, but their relationship was...strained, to say the least. Revan sensed Carth's presence through the Force long before he appeared within seeing distance of the former Sith Lord, and the 'Jedi' was expecting him by the time the soldier walked up behind him.

"It's a beautiful place," Revan commented, continuing to stare out at the sea and sky.

"It helps that there are no people here to ruin it," Carth replied. Revan finally turned, the look in his green eyes oddly comforting to Carth. He knew that in some way, Revan had already forgiven him for what he had done. Now it was his turn.

"What I said back there...I didn't mean it. I do trust you, but I'm still new to it." Carth sighed and shifted under his friend's now unsettlingly calm gaze. "And I wanted to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said earlier."

Revan's smile was accommodating but morose. "I understand what you're thinking. Trust me, I've thought about it too. What if I fall again? What if I'm not strong enough and I become Darth Revan for a second time?"

"I don't want it to happen again – to get betrayed by someone I respect," Carth confessed, embarrassed. "I'm just so afraid of that, of seeing you turn into that again that sometimes I get kind of irrational."

"I didn't have friends like you to help me the first time around," was all that the 'Jedi' said as he silently stood and walked back across the sand and into the Elder Settlement. Carth was grateful for Revan's compliment and the sincerity in which it was given, and finally felt a peace with his friend as he followed him inside.

- - -

Revan was much more at ease now that he was in his armor and fully suited up. Except for his lightsabers, he had everything he needed. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned, not expecting to see Zaalbar holding his violet lightsaber hilt with a barely concealed look of apprehension and excitement.

(I found the Solari crystal that you discovered in your pack and placed it in your lightsaber,) the Wookiee informed him. Revan's brows furrowed at this – he remembered that crystal and the way that his left shoulder and right hand had burned as he held it. Tentatively, he reached out and grasped the cool, cylindrical metal hilt and took a deep breath to conceal the discomfort that holding his weapon caused. As with before, the fiery pain subsided within seconds, but it still bothered Revan that holding a strictly Light side crystal hurt him. He wasn't having delusions of perfection, but he still didn't think that touching a Light side object should render him any harm.

(Is there something wrong?) Zaalbar asked, worry reflecting in the Wookiee's large, brown eyes.

"No, I can just feel the difference. I'll have to get used to it," Revan lied, and did so convincingly.

(If I am correct, that will increase the damage that your lightsaber inflicts.)

Revan gave the Wookiee a reassuring smile. "Thanks. I'm sure I'm going to need it soon."

The group left their room, everyone dressed and ready for the day ahead, and searched out the complex for the Elder councilors. When they found the Rakatans, Revan spoke first.

(Elders,) he said with a small bow, a mere slight bend at the waist and a lowering of his head in a respectful gesture.

(Revan,) the three aliens said in unison with a nod of their heads. (What is it that you wish to speak about?) the friendly Elder inquired.

(I wanted to tell you that we're going to try and rescue your companion from the One's compound,) the 'Jedi' replied.

(Is that so? Well then, we all wish you the best of luck.)

Revan thanked the Elders for their accommodations and bid them goodbye, his pace brisk as he strode out of the settlement and into the vast, expansive beach that was Rakata Prime. The former Sith Lord easily remembered which paths to take to get to the One's settlement, and the trip took considerably less time than before. As they drew near to the structure, however, Revan sensed a large number of Force signatures in front of the settlement, much larger than the number that normally patrolled the perimeter of the their beachhead. Holding his hands out, low and with his palms facing behind him, to his friends, he told them silently to stop moving – not faithful to his militaristic nature when combat was involved, true, but it worked nonetheless. Carth understood this to mean halt and take cover, and he unholstered his blasters.

_**Snick.**_

The sound of Zaalbar switching the safety off of his large Bowcaster was much louder than Carth's blasters, but even so, Revan barely heard it. Glancing behind him, he saw that Carth had crouched behind a large chunk of rock that had fallen out the large rock wall that served as the boundaries of the path they were on. Zaalbar had found a shadow thrown by another object higher up, and had used his dark coloring to slip into obscurity within the small slice of darkness. Revan unclipped his lightsabers from his belt and pressed his back against the rock wall opposite Carth, inching slowly forward and peering cautiously around curve in the wall to see what they were up against. Four young rancors were stomping around, grunting and snarling like usual while at least twenty Rakatan Warriors patrolled the beach, all armed with a vibrosword, double or single-bladed.

Leaning back to make sure he was out of sight, Revan began to think. Four rancors by themselves would be a handful, but with the extra twenty Rakatan Warriors, they were pushing the limits. He had to find some way to get thin the number of rancors, and fast. As he wracked his brain, sifting through his memories of past conflicts for a feasible strategy, his mind drifted to the burning that was throbbing in his arm and wrist. Revan almost spoke out loud as the thought of "burning" made him recall a Force power he had yet to use, and was invaluable in many circumstances. Closing his eyes to block out any distractions, he immersed himself in the Force, feeling it flow through himself, his friends, and the large group of hostiles less than 200 meters away. He searched for one of the rancor's life signatures and a shadow of a smile flitted across his face as he felt the base emotions of the creature, the essential desires and needs that marked every living thing, human, alien, or animal. Grasping the Force signature of the rancor, Revan concentrated all of his energy, thought, emotion and power on the animal.

The shadow of a smile that had been hovering over his face formed into a wicked grin as he heard the screeching of the rancor and the shocked yells of the Rakatan Warriors. His efforts had succeeded, and Revan charged into the chaotic fray with a guttural yell, lightsabers drawn, his friends following seconds after. Revan cut down two Rakatans before they even knew he was there, impaled a third as he swung wildly at the 'Jedi', blocked the attack of a fourth and decapitated him with a quick twist of his blade. A fifth Warrior attacked him, and Revan blocked the sweep that would have taken his legs out at the knee. Striking high with the violet blade in his right hand, the 'Jedi' was met with cold metal alloy halting his attack and pushing him back. Spinning, Revan shoved the Rakatan's sword away and faced his enemy, sizing up his options and using the brief pause to see how his friends were faring. Carth shot down a Rakatan Warrior as it charged at him, and sidestepped the alien's last desperate swipe as he crashed to the ground. The Republic soldier pumped on last round into the Rakatan's skull and slammed a fresh power cell into his blaster, looking around for any other attackers. Zaalbar had replaced his Bowcaster with Bacca's blade and was fending off one of the rancors that was left, a trail of corpses behind him.

Revan cursed as he saw the other rancor charging straight for Carth and shoved the Rakatan Warrior that he was occupied with out of the way, using the Force to augment his speed. The only thing that Carth saw was a flash of violet and red before the rancor collapsed to the ground with two smoking holes in its head. The soldier looked up in surprise to see Revan standing on the rancor's back, his legs in a wide stance for balance, his face hard and merciless, the two lightsabers he possessed held firmly at his sides. Revan leapt down from the rancor and moved near Carth, keeping his gaze on the rapidly diminishing battle before them. The four remaining Rakatan Warriors had turned their attention away from the lone Wookiee battling the last rancor, and were now moving toward the Republic soldier and the 'Jedi.'

"You all right?" Revan grunted, his voice lacking the normal compassion it would have held under ordinary circumstances.

"Never been better," Carth responded, futilely attempting to stem the flow of blood that poured from a deep gash in his left thigh. Revan glanced over at his friend and noticed the wound, moving unobtrusively in front of the soldier, exposing his back to the oncoming attackers. Carth felt Revan's gaze on him and knew what the 'Jedi' was thinking.

"The damn thing got me as he fell," he explained. He felt a tingle around the area of the gash and watched in wonder as the skin closed itself and the pain disappeared. He had been healed before, but he had never actually _seen_ how it worked. Carth's instincts took over, and his conscious thought returned to the battle and hand – and more importantly, the fact that Revan's back was to the enemy.

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed, trying to shove Revan around the face the Rakatans.

"Kneel," the 'Jedi' ordered in a cold voice.

Carth's face showed confusion and a deep uncertainty. "What?"

"Trust me. Kneel," he commanded again, leaving no room for disobedience.

Carth very slowly dropped to one knee while keeping his eyes on his friend's face. "What are you doing?" he asked for the second time, a deep sense of dread spreading from his core.

"Trust me," Revan replied for a third time, closing his eyes and deactivating his crimson blade, clipping it back onto his belt. "Charge a shot."

Carth reluctantly did as he was told, flicking the switch on his blaster that allowed him to charge up a shot for greater damage.

"I'm going to spin to your left. As soon as you've got an open shot, let go of the trigger."

The Republic soldier finally understood Revan's strategy, and was glad that he had not become belligerent in his protests. His suspicion trickling away, Carth could see the feet of the approaching Warriors through Revan's legs, and he prepared himself for the ensuing skirmish, taking a deep breath to steady his hand and clear his mind. He glanced up at Revan and saw that the young man's eyes were still closed, and he was surprised to see a serenely calm expression on his friend's face; the 'Jedi's' knuckles were white as he gripped the hilt of his violet lightsaber, both hands' fingers wrapped tightly around the metal, but Carth could not tell if this was from nerves or pain, or perhaps neither. Revan took a deep breath, and the soldier watched his chest rise and fall evenly just before the 'Jedi's' face twisted into a feral snarl and he whipped his body around, clotheslining the nearest Rakatan Warrior with his left arm and slicing down with his right as he spun away, just like he said he would.

_**CRACK!**_

Both men heard the alien's neck snap, the sound like a small firecracker going off. As soon as he had a clear shot, Carth let fly with the supercharged bolt of energy, firing with his left blaster the moment that angle was clear as well. Revan had already killed one of the Rakatan Warriors when he had cleaved him in half after brutally clothelining him in the throat, and Carth's charged blast and subsequent shots had taken out two of the Rakatans, leaving one left to deal with. Revan's violet lightsaber hummed through the air as he kicked the last Warrior's feet out from underneath him. Thrusting his blade into the alien's skull, Revan's attention was already focused elsewhere as the Rakatan writhed in the throes of death below him. Zaalbar was standing some 300 yards away, across the beach, holding Bacca's blade with both paws and panting heavily, the body of the rancor on the sand before him. Revan helped Carth to his feet and together they picked their way through the blood-stained sand to where the Wookiee was.

"Zaalbar?" Revan asked cautiously, seeing a large, deep cut running from the Wookiee's left shoulder down to the opposite right hip. The 'Jedi' healed his friend and came around in front of him, placing a hand on Zaalbar's large, furry forearm.

"Zaalbar?" he repeated, forcing the Wookiee to look at him. When he did, Revan continued. "Are you all right?"

(I...am tired...I...apologize,) the Wookiee managed between deep breaths. (I wanted...to catch my wind...before...speaking.)

"Oh...come on, walking will make it better. Put your hands on the top of your head if you're having trouble breathing. It should help," Revan said distractedly, leading the way to the entrance to the Rakatan Settlement. "We're going to have to do a lot more fighting inside. Do either of you want a battle stim?"

"I'm game," Carth piped up, grabbing the stim that Revan offered. Zaalbar merely nodded, taking the proffered stim as well.

"You don't need one?" Carth asked after he had administered the drug. Revan shook his head. "How is that possible? It takes more work to wield a lightsaber than it does to shoot a gun!"

"I have the Force, remember? But barring that, I have good stamina. I'm only twenty-six – keep that in mind," Revan replied.

Carth's face went slack. "Twenty-six? You...had to have been eighteen when the Mandalorian Wars started!"

"I was," the 'Jedi' said quietly. "I passed my Knighthood test just three months into the conflict. It was two years before I would actually join the war though. I tried to be patient with the Council, to see their point of view, but after the Battle of Cathar..." Revan's voice would not cooperate with him, and he paused to gain his composure. The thought of what the Mandalorians had done still infuriated him, but the fact that he could now say that he had done much of the same thing infuriated and shamed him even more.

"After the Battle of Cathar, Malak and I joined the Republic forces, taking with us many other Knights and a few Masters as well. As you know, once Malak and I took control of about one third of the Republic fleet, we began to push the Mandalorians back." They had stopped walking now, and were resting against a small outcropping of rocks near the water's edge, and Revan saw that Carth and Zaalbar were listening to him intently, so he continued. "We began winning battle after battle, and the end of the war was practically within our grasp. We don't have the time, and I don't want to talk about it right now, but I saw how I could keep the Republic safe and protect them from the threat that I knew was out there. I went down to Malachor V, looking for a valuable outpost but finding my downfall, if you could call it that. What I discovered there is what made me disappear into unknown space after the Mandalorian Wars and come back as Darth Revan. And I would do it again, if I had to. I know what I found there, and I know what I'm dealing with. The Council is too weak and rooted in their pacifistic teachings to do what needs to be done, and that was what made me take matters into my own hands in the first place. I will _not_ leave the Republic defenseless because of the stupidity of others." Revan stood from the rock he had been sitting on and massaged the tired muscles of his neck and feeling his lower back beginning to tighten from their small break. "Come on. The quicker we get this over with, the quicker we can get off of this planet."

Both of his friends knew the unspoken end of the sentence, "and the quicker we can rescue Bastila."

"Besides, those stims should've kicked in by now," he added, stopping just in front of the doors to the Rakatan Settlement.

"Wait just a second," Carth called, preventing the 'Jedi's' movement. "What exactly did you do when I heard that rancor start screeching all of a sudden, right before you charged like a maniac into the middle of the Rakatans?"

"I set one of them on fire," he replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world, returning his attention to the doors. "It must have caught another one of fire as well," he added thoughtfully. With a flick of his wrist, the doors scraped open with an obstinate growling, revealing the compound within. Carth glanced back and saw that there were indeed two charred corpses that he had not noticed during the chaos of the battle. Revan walked through the entrance, violet lightsaber in one hand, looking around, not expecting the immediate hallway to be deserted. Walking cautiously down the corridor that he knew would eventually lead him to the One, Revan didn't pause as he used the Force to kill a Rakatan Warrior that was attempting to hide in the shadows and ambush them. The 'Jedi' noticed that even though it was about five o'clock, the compound was surprisingly dimly lit, and he was sometimes cornered into using the Force to see into a particularly dark crevice. He noticed that the overhanging cloths that were normally pulled back from the top of the medium-sized walls were now pulled together and blocking most of the incoming sunlight. The group had met only one alien thus far, but they were not surprised to see a whole contingent of Rakata waiting for them at the entrance to the bridge residing over the chasm filled with water that would transport him directly to the One.

"Well this should be fun," Carth muttered, his hands tightening on his blasters.

"Oh no. This is just the warm up. Don't you remember the four rancors that were in that circular room with the One? I doubt those were just decorative pieces," Revan retorted. He thrust out his free left hand, flinging a whirlwind of Force at the unsuspecting Warriors, hurling half of their number over the sides of the bridge and sending them plunging into the water to complete their unceremoniously violent end by electrocution as the 'Jedi' let electricity flow from his body into the liquid. Revan felt the waves of heat rippling off Zaalbar's Bowcaster and searing into his neck before the charged shot erupted from the weapon, spitting a spray of green globs of molten hot energy and killing three more Rakata.

_**Clink – clink – clink.**_

Revan heard the slugs hit the floor from Zaalbar's weapon as Carth picked off the last two with ease, sniping one and pumping the other full of holes. The trio crossed the bridge without further resistance, and Revan called his unused lightsaber to his left hand and ignited the crimson blade, twirling both of his weapons in anticipation.

(Revan,) the One called to them with a hint of anger and a shade of surprise lacing his words. (I see you have decided to side with the Elders.)

(I have,) the ex-Dark Lord replied, speaking in the Rakatan language. (I try not to commit acts of senseless murder if I don't have to.)

(Whoever said anything about murder?)

(You honestly think the Elders would just give up their tome and let you take over their temple? I think not,) Revan retorted, pointing the tip of his violet blade at a cage that held a rancor, but also a single Elder prisoner. (Let him go. He's all I came for.)

(I'm afraid I can't do that, Revan. I tolerated your betrayal once, but I am not about to do so again. If you want that prisoner, you're going to have to kill me.)

Revan watched calmly as a small sword that the One had thrown sailed end over end to strike the lever that opened the cages with enough force to activate it. The bars in front of the holding cells slid up and away, freeing the rancors within.

(Would you like to see what I did to your pets outside?) the former Sith Lord growled, his cold, green eyes never leaving the One's black orbs as two of the rancors exploded into flames behind the alien. "Sorry guys," he yelled, addressing his friends, "but you're going to have to deal with the last two on your own! My energy's nearly exhausted!"

(You rely on your vaunted "Force" to give you an edge in battle! But let's see how good you are in combat without it!) the One snarled, twirling a vibroblade menacingly.

(I can assure you that I am quite proficient in that area as well,) Revan replied in a mockingly positive tone, the grimace on his face showing his true disposition. (I'm not leaving here till you're dead,) he informed the leader.

The One's reply was a howl of rage as he charged at the 'Jedi', smashing Revan's crimson lightsaber out of the way and meeting his enemy's violet one with incredible strength. Revan pushed back, kicking the One and forcing him to take steps back, putting some distance between them. The young man went on the offensive, attacking with quick but powerful strikes, keeping his body under control and not wasting energy on excess and unproductive movement, not forced in the least to use all of his skill with his blades. He was trying to push the One into one of the cages in the hopes of cornering him, but the alien saw this strategy and constantly circled, negating the 'Jedi's' plan and keeping them securely in the middle of the circular room. Revan ducked a swipe for his head and returned a strike, catching the One on the arm and searing a deep wound in his flesh. The pain seemed only to spur the Rakatan on, as he came at Revan almost wildly, lashing out at any opening the 'Jedi' seemed to present. The young man blocked all of these strikes, though not all of them with as much ease as he would have liked, and he decided that it was time to finish their sparring match. Drawing upon his discipline and strength of will, Revan pushed through the exhaustion that was throwing a black veil on the edges of his vision. For the span of two seconds, he became a blur of purple and crimson as he moved with a speed that no one present in the room could follow, grasping the One's blade with his two – one underneath the vibroblade, the other on top, like such to gain leverage and grip – spinning to the left and wrenching the metal sword out of the alien's hands and sending it whistling through the air to stick quivering into the stone wall. In the next split second, Revan completed his spin and brought both of his lightsabers down at an angle, slicing from the One's right shoulder down through his right hip, the Rakatan leader's body falling to the ground in two pieces.

_**SCRAPE!**_

Revan felt the claws of the last rancor slam into his right side, flinging him through the air. The 'Jedi' tucked his left shoulder in close as he hit the ground and rolled away, flinging himself on his stomach to avoid the second swipe of the remaining rancor, and he heard it give a feeble cry and crash to the ground seconds later; the smell of acrid flesh filled the air in the aftermath of the battle – a smell that was all too familiar to Revan. Standing, the 'Jedi' observed the tear that was in the cloth of his armor, exposing the tough, titanium-alloy mesh underlay beneath. It had stopped the rancor's claws from piercing his flesh, but Revan could already feel a bruise forming where the sharp talons had slammed into him. He made his way around the creature's corpses to enter a formerly occupied cage, now housing only a severely wounded Elder.

(I've been sent by your people to rescue you,) the 'Jedi' said as he used the last reserves of his energy to pull the Force around the alien and heal his more serious injuries. Staggering against the wall, Revan breathed heavily, a wave of dizziness enveloping him, his vision becoming unfocused as the tendrils of darkness curled around his senses. He felt a sharp prick on the side of his right thigh and a tingling before a second wind seemed to revive him.

"Hyper-adrenal stimulant," Carth said as he helped Revan to stand. The younger man nodded in thanks, motioning at the Elder to follow them, which he did with no hesitancy.

"We have medical packs for a reason you know," the soldier said quietly into Revan's ear when the Elder was far enough ahead with Zaalbar to be a safe distance away.

"The Force works better. He could have had internal bleeding. Our medical packs can't fix that."

"Yes they can, and you know it."

"Why are we having this argument? I healed him, and it's done. I don't see the problem," Revan fought back.

"The problem," Carth said with a patient tone, "is that you exhausted yourself in doing that. It wasn't a smart thing to do, especially in the middle of a hostile settlement."

Revan knew Carth was right and didn't bother to argue his point further, wincing as the Republic pilot's shoulder dug painfully into his bruised right side. The trek back to the Elder's Settlement was mercifully short and uneventful, and Revan was immediately escorted to the healer when the Elder Councilors saw the state he was in.

(Please lie on the bed and relax. This will only take a few minutes,) the healer instructed, helping the exhausted and battered young man recline. As he sunk back against the soft material, Revan took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to relax as the healer checked his pulse. He heard someone else enter the room and reopened his eyes to see the three Elder Councilors walking to where he was resting.

(We have deliberated,) the friendly one was saying as they approached, (and we have come to an agreement.)

Revan waited without bated breath. He knew already what the Elder was going to say. There was no way he could say anything else.

(I can see that you have guessed what it is I am going to tell you,) the Elder said with a smile. (Yes, we have all decided that you are sincere in you redemption, and we will assist you in entering the Temple for a second time.)

Revan allowed himself a small measure of relief in knowing that he was one step closer to finding Bastila, but the fact that she was...

He stopped that train of thought as quickly as he could, turning his attention back to the Elders.

(...we believe that it would be wise for you to take this time to rest,) one of the Elders was saying.

(I'm sorry, what?) Revan asked apologetically.

(It will take us some time to prepare for the ritual. You should use that time to rest and prepare yourself,) another Elder reiterated.

(How long is it going to take?) the 'Jedi' inquired.

(The arrangements will take the better part of tomorrow. The ceremony itself will take many hours, and we will only be able to keep the shield down for a brief time. But we will explain all of this when the time comes,) the friendly Elder said. (Come. For now, sleep. I'm sure Ll'awa wishes to interrogate you once more before you leave us again,) he added with a smile.

Revan's eyebrows rose and fell in comprehension of the statement, but he showed little else in the way of emotion. He reached his room without need of a guide, and flopped down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Briefly, he wondered when it was during the conversation that the healer had finished with him, but he let his mind go blank in an effort to induce unconsciousness. His two companions were quiet, Carth already asleep and Zaalbar on the brink of slumber as well. Revan's last thoughts before he fell asleep were not on current matters – in fact, they were on matters that he probably had no real memories of, fake or otherwise. He wondered what his real parents were like, and what they would think of him if they could see him now. He imagined it wouldn't be pride that filled their hearts.

- - -

A black man, medium in stature and dressed in military uniform nervously took the steps that brought him ever closer to the imposing figure that currently had his back to the entire deck of the Star Forge. This figure was standing in front of a machine that was whirring away, its mechanical arm moving back and forth around the man's face. Admiral Varko, swallowing, clearing his throat and straightening his uniform, halted his steps and addressed this man.

"Lord Malak, the preparations are nearly complete. Every day the Star Forge adds more ships to our fleet – it is operating at three-hundred per cent of our projections. The fleet is assembling around the Star Forge and awaits your instructions."

Malak turned, and Varko could not help but take a step back in revulsion. The Dark Lord's mandible was completely missing, a small, glowing metal device implanted in his throat to allow for speech. Malak's upper lip, still there, moved as if nothing was amiss whenever he spoke, only adding to the surreal and disturbing feeling generated by the sight of the Sith's disfigured face.

"Patience, Commander," the Dark Lord said. "My new apprentice is nearly ready." A malicious, dark fire lighted his eyes, and Varko was sure if Malak could have smiled, the picture would have been a sickeningly triumphant grin. "Once Bastila joins her Battle Meditation to our enormous fleet, we shall be invincible. Then we shall begin our final conquest of the Core Worlds, and the Republic will be crushed forever."

Admiral Varko executed a small bow, bending slightly at the waist and lowering his head. "As you wish, Lord Malak."

He exited as quickly as possible, not wishing to stare at the Sith's mutilated face any longer. Varko told himself that if he did as he was ordered, he would be fine, but he was a war veteran, and he knew the feeling of the build up to a major conflict.

The tension was reaching its peak.

- - -

Carth and Zaalbar had packed up all of their belongings except the essentials for battle, and had moved all of the unneeded equipment back to the **_Ebon Hawk_**. The Elders had provided them with a nourishing breakfast, and the two were now waiting for Revan to awake. The young man had been sleeping soundly the last time they had checked, and neither had wanted to disturb him, both Zaalbar and Carth knowing the importance of a good night's sleep. As if on queue, the 'Jedi' appeared in the medium-sized mess hall that his two friends were sitting in.

"How long have you been up?" he asked worriedly, hoping he had not overslept.

"An hour, maybe two. It's still early morning," Carth replied.

Revan slumped into a seat and mumbled a 'Thank you' to the servant who brought him food.

"Didn't you sleep well? You looked out cold," the soldier remarked upon seeing the weariness in Revan's movements and the dark circles under his eyes.

"Too tired to sleep. If that makes any sense."

Carth blinked. "No...it doesn't."

"Have you ever been tired in the middle of the day, and you take a nap, but you sleep too long and you're still tired?" the young man asked.

"Yeah," the Republic pilot answered, not seeing the connection.

"Even though I didn't oversleep, my body was in such a deep state of rest that it's almost like I was asleep for too long, like the nap thing. So basically, I got screwed again – that's all that really matters."

"Hey, uh...somebody contacted our ship asking for you. Some merchant on Yavin IV. He...well, he wants you to come up and look at his stuff. Says it's very important that you see what he has," Carth said, changing the subject.

"What makes him think that he's more important to me than getting Bastila back and killing Malak?" Revan said, his irritation evident.

"I don't know, but he said he had two lightsaber crystals that you should look at. He said that one of them used to be yours, and that the other belongs to the Jedi Council. He found that one and I guess he thinks you can return it."

"One of the crystals used to be mine?" Now Revan's interest was genuinely piqued. "Maybe I should go see him..." He took another bite of food and was silent for a while. "Did this man give you his name?"

"Yeah. But he's not a man – not a human, at least – he's a Rodian. His name's Suvam Tan."

"Suvam Tan," Revan repeated. The name wasn't familiar, and he supposed that was a good thing. "We might pay him a visit today, then. Is the ship able to get up off of the ground?" The young man punched out a heavy exhale and rolled his eyes. "Never mind. The planetary shield is still activated. We'll have to see what this Suvam wants _after_ we search the inside of the Temple."

"And we've still got part of a day to kill," Carth pointed out.

"Yes, about that..." Revan mused, "I think I'm actually going to attempt to meditate. I have a feeling that it isn't going to be successful, but I have absolutely nothing better to do."

(If you don't need me, I will return to the ship.)

The young man's gaze flicked to the large Wookiee for a moment, his head nodding in assent. "If that's what you want to do, I'm not going to stop you."

Zaalbar rose from his seated position and loped out of the mess hall unhurriedly, leaving the two men behind. Revan rose from his chair as well, as did Carth, and the 'Jedi' made his way outside, looking for a suitable area to meditate.

"Just what exactly do you do when you meditate?" the Republic pilot asked curiously.

The former Sith Lord snorted. "I wouldn't be able to fully answer that question, Carth. I don't believe that I have _ever_ achieved a perfect state of meditative bliss." He became more serious, and chose his next words carefully, trying to explain the action to his friend. "When you meditate, technically, you are trying to let the Force flow through you unimpeded. You calm your mind and purge it of anything stressful or worrisome, and the entire process is supposed to be like de-toxing, but more for your mind than your body. It is restful, though, and it rejuvenates both the mind and body."

"Are you unconscious?"

"No," Revan replied, "not entirely. You still retain all of your senses but..." he stopped, searching. "This would be the equivalent of a machine powering down to operate at a much lower capacity to give itself time to recharge without actually shutting off."

"Smart," Carth remarked.

"Yes. Now if only it was as simple as it sounds."

"It's hard?"

"It isn't supposed to be difficult, no, but it always has been for me. Even more so lately, with Bastila being gone and Malak so close...the Dark side can cloud the Force and make it hard to find calm."

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" Carth asked. "I guess I can't meditate like you can, but maybe I can do my own version."

"That's fine."

They had stopped walking minutes ago, Revan having picked a spot on the South beach, the Elder's beach, just out of reach of the ocean's tide, shaded from the sun by high rocks, and relatively safe from view. The 'Jedi' sat down on the cool sand, moving to a lotus position and resting his hands on his knees, thumbs and forefingers softly touching, the rest of his fingers loosely extended. His eyelids slid shut over his intense, green orbs, and he bowed his head slightly, relieving any tension that was forming in his upper trapezius by the gentle stretch that his angled head provided. Taking one final deep breath and holding it for a short time before letting it go, Revan opened himself to the Force, letting the tranquility and stillness of Rakata Prime flow through him and quiet his restless mind and spirit.

Carth watched all of this with a mute fascination, not wanting to make a single noise for fear of breaking the serenity that had descended upon his friend. The soldier knew that he couldn't achieve the state of harmony that Revan was in, but he figured that he might as well try to get comfortable while his companion was meditating. He mirrored the same lotus position, and placed his hands the same way, but he propped himself up against a rock, knowing that his back would not be able to stand being in one position for too long. Carth closed his eyes and concentrated on listening to the sound of the ocean lapping against beach, of the surf crashing against the rocks farther away, and waited.

- - -

When Revan pulled himself out of his trance, he was neither surprised nor offended that Carth was no longer with him. He had been in a meditative state for nearly three hours and it was now nearly noon; Revan guessed this from the high position of the sun in the sky and the not quite uncomfortable heat that beat down upon his exposed neck. Standing, he brushed the sand from his clothes and slowly walked back to the Elder Settlement, taking his time to appreciate the scenery along the way. Revan entered the compound headed for the mess hall, hoping to grab a light snack, but was met instead with the now-familiar faces of the three Elder Councilors.

(Ah, there you are,) the Elder who always spoke said in a semi-serious tone. (We were hoping that we would not have to search for you. It is easy to hide on this planet,) he explained.

(I was meditating,) Revan said truthfully as he picked up a piece of fruit from a bowl and inspected it before sinking his teeth into the succulent and tasty produce. (How are the preparations coming?)

(We are finished, and can take you to the Temple any time you would like. Some of our people are already there, and are waiting for you to decide when.)

(If you'll allow me ten minutes to get ready...) Revan trailed. The Elders nodded, and the 'Jedi' finished the piece of fruit quickly, jogging back to his room and finding his armor, weapons and other provisions set out neatly on his bed, along with a small note telling him that Carth and Zaalbar had joined up with the rest of the **_Ebon Hawk_**'s crew on the ship. Suiting up and fully equipping himself, Revan reappeared in the mess hall almost exactly ten minutes later.

(I can guess time well,) he offered upon seeing the Elder's somewhat surprised faces. (I had to learn in the Mandalorian Wars, which means I had to become _very_ good, or else people were going to die.)

(I see,) the friendly Elder replied, not fully comprehending but pretending to for time's sake. (I take it you are ready, then?) Revan nodded. (Very well, follow us.)

The trio of Elders led him out of their settlement, across the South beach, and into the front courtyard of the Temple where a group of Elders were already waiting in a circle around what might have been a gathering of stones, or perhaps a small fire – Revan couldn't see.

(As I am sure you have been told, this will take many hours. You must stay vigilant, however, as the shields will only stay down for a short time,) and Elder priest said. (You must enter this Temple alone, as the ancient customs state. If you are not ready to comply with this, then I will wait until you are amenable to these terms.)

(I am prepared to go in alone,) the 'Jedi' replied.

The Elder priest looked at the young human in front of him for a long while, seeing the defiance in his strong jaw, the confidence in his broad shoulders, and the boiling, conflicting emotions in his eyes. It was almost the same Revan that had stood before him nearly three years prior, but this time, the man did not bear the sinister shadow of evil – not externally, at least. The priest could discern that this human was still plagued by past demons and the taint of darkness within him, and that it was a struggle he had yet to win. Finally, the Elder gave a slow nod, and turned to rejoin the circle of chanters performing the ritual.

Revan had the distinct feeling that the priest had just seen through the façade that he kept up – the pretense that he had everything together and that he was holding up just fine. Strangely, this did not bother him like he thought it would. Sitting down on the short grass that covered the ground, he settled in to wait, slipping into a semi-meditative state for the second time that day. Revan stayed like this for perhaps two hours until he felt the tension of alarm permeate the air, and he opened his eyes to see the Elder priest that he had spoken to earlier looking very irate.

(Someone is coming!) he barked, halting the ritual. Revan got up and looked behind him, seeing both Jolee and Juhani hurriedly approaching.

"Wait!" Jolee was yelling. "You can't go in there alone!"

"What are you doing here?" Revan hissed once his two friends had halted in front of him.

"I had a...a premonition. A vision through the Force," Jolee explained gravely. "There is great danger inside that temple. We can't let you face it alone. You might be walking into a trap...maybe Malak himself is waiting inside. Even if he isn't, that temple will still be crawling with Dark Jedi. You'll need all the help you can get."

(No others can go with you into the Temple. You must enter alone. That is the way of the ancient ritual,) the Elder said stubbornly.

Revan knew that Jolee was right, but he didn't want to give the Elders any reason to think he was going to betray them again. With an apologetic look, he turned back to his friends.

"Jolee, Juhani – you can't come. The Elders won't allow it."

"Your destiny – maybe the fate of the entire galaxy – could be forever changed inside of that temple," Jolee argued passionately. "We are _not_ about to let you face that alone. Not after my premonition. There's a reason I had that vision. So you just tell that guide of yours to do whatever he has to do to get us all inside the Temple."

Sighing, Revan faced the Elder priest, his tone almost pleading. (Continue the ritual, please.)

(No! You must enter the Temple alone. I will not lower the shields,) he argued right back.

"I don't know what he said, but it sounds like your guide's being stubborn. We don't have time for this! The Republic Fleet it on its way and we're stuck on this planet until we deactivate that disruptor field. You have to convince him to get us inside that temple!" Jolee urged.

(Look,) Revan began, preparing to try and persuade the Elder priest, (that temple is going to be crawling with Dark Jedi. If I go in there alone, I'm committing suicide. I need you to let my friends in with me.)

The Elder priest eyed Jolee and Juhani suspiciously, but Revan could tell that he was going to relent. (It goes against everything the rules say, but...I do not want to send you to your death.) Growling in malcontent, the priest turned his back on them and joined the circle of chanters again. (I will continue the ritual. We are near – be ready.)

Revan gave Jolee and affirmative nod and the old man relaxed slightly. For a second there, he thought that the kid might not have been able to get the ritual started again.

"Are we able to come with Revan?" Juhani asked quietly.

"Yeah, we can go with him."

"That is good," he heard the Cathar mutter under her breath, and the old Jedi silently agreed. Revan was perhaps the most skilled man he had ever seen with lightsabers – even among the Masters – but he knew that sometimes skill was no match for numbers. There were times that no amount of skill could stand up against the sheer magnitude of the enemy.

Even though the Elder priest had said that they were near the completion of the ritual, it still took another hour and a half before something started to happen. The three Jedi turned in surprise as silver beams began to shoot out of each Elder's chest, all connecting at one point above the ring of chanters. Suddenly, it shot towards the force field that guarded the temple's entrance and dispersed upon connecting with the shield of energy, causing the barrier to flicker erratically for a few seconds before disappearing entirely.

"Come on!" Revan said. "We need to move _now_."

The trio of Jedi ran as quickly as possible up the stone ramp in front of the structure and paused at the first set of doors. They snarled as they opened, stone grating roughly against stone from years of disuse, sliding away and revealing the gloomy passage within. Revan was the first one through the entrance, glancing around, weapons in hand and ready for whatever might come his way.

"I remember this place," he muttered. Jolee and Juhani shared a glance.

That didn't sound comforting.

* * *

Lyrics for "The Art of Subconscious Illusion" 

A living nightmare, asleep but still aware.

The endless torture.

The painless pleasure.

I grasp myself.

Trying to regain control.

I experience and learn.

In another faction of my mind.

So confused.

But everything makes perfect sense.

Can't feel the pain.

Emotional pain's so much deadlier.

Lost, you've just been raped.

Pain. Your friends can't help you.

Why wont they help you? Another reality.

This can't be happening.

Why is this happening?

Who the fuck are you?

Who the fuck. Are you?

Trying hard to figure out what's done.

I scramble but now I run.

The images in my head.

All the problems that I've been fed.

Punching slowly my mind can't change the speed.

As my victims bleed.

No matter what I do or how hard I try.

I can't use my abilities.

Use my abilities.

Art of Illusion.

My razor sharp knife's edge, pierces my victim's body.

But I can't take their soul.

Punching through jello, stabbing not killing.

Disappointment. Discomfort.

Yeah...the song itself doesn't make much sense to me, but some of the lyrics go with Revan's feelings...

It's the best I could come up with, as this chapter doesn't have much of an emotional theme that I haven't already covered earlier, so I apologize if you don't like the song.


	18. Chapter 18

Argh! Sorry for the mother-long wait! School got to be really hectic and I'm sure you don't want to hear my excuses. Anyway, I tried to make Revan go dark in this chapter, and I hope it worked. The transition felt kind of rocky to me, and it took me a while to get comfortable with his darkness...so let me know if I need to fix it.

**Recommended Song(s): Open Up by Korn for the confrontation with Bastila, The Two Thrones Ch. 1 and 2 (from the Prince of Persia: Official Soundtrack)for background music for the hangar and Deck 1 and 2 of the Star Forge. Bodies by Drowning Pool for Revan's ass-kicking of all the insignificant peons that Malak sends out to try and stop him.**

**Oh, and Chapter 8 was kind of majorly revised. Check it out. It changes some things.**

* * *

"Damn it all to _hell_," Revan cursed, his deep voice rumbling angrily from his chest. 

"What could possibly be wrong? We've barely been in here a minute," Jolee asked.

"The door won't open," he replied. "The thing's hermetically sealed."

"Perhaps we must actually _explore _the temple to find how to unlock the door," Juhani suggested, sarcasm tinting her words.

Revan gave her a glare that was only half-pretend. "Bite me," he growled. Juhani hissed at her friend, still mocking him. He grunted back, ignoring her and turned to his right, starting down the eastern section of the temple. Entering the first door he came to, Revan found a computer in an otherwise empty room. Asking his friends to watch his back, the 'Jedi' logged on to the computer and began to do as much damage as he could.

"Those droids out in the hallway," he said as he turned the computer off and unclipped a single lightsaber from his belt, "don't stand a chance."

"Let me guess, you disabled their shields?" Jolee asked, already knowing the answer.

"Of course. Along with an Assault droid's shields, a hallway lined with turrets, and the targeting systems of two prototype droids."

"What aren't you good at?" the old man said, meaning it to be a rhetorical question.

"You wanna know?" Revan asked, suddenly serious, stopping and waiting for Jolee's response.

"Kid, I didn't mean it like that..."

"No, I'm serious. It would be nice to tell someone that I'm not perfect, and that I make mistakes just like everyone else and screw up more times than I get things right." His voice was calm and unruffled but Jolee knew that could conceal a storm of emotions within. Revan's aura wasn't giving anything away, so Jolee led him on.

"All right then, what aren't you good at?"

Revan gave him a humorless smile. "Well, let's see...keeping my emotions in check, heeding the wisdom of others, being patient, letting others do things while I sit back and wait – all of this from the Jedi Council's point of view, mind you."

"Revan, none of us have ever expected you to be perfect."

"You haven't, but everyone else has."

"It's what happens when you can shoulder responsibility."

"I shouldn't have to fix the galaxy's royal snafu," he replied angrily. "They screwed themselves, and now they're taking advantage of me and banking on the fact that I can save their pathetic asses."

"That's society, kid. It's sad we've regressed to this, but human nature will gravitate to the lowest possible standard," Jolee answered his challenge.

"And it's left for people like us to pick up the pieces and make it right again," Revan finished. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his dark hair. "Sorry. I'm wasting our time. We should get going."

Without waiting for his friends to respond, Revan exited the room and stepped out into the corridor, igniting his violet lightsaber as lightning poured from his free left hand and decimated the two patrol droids that were unlucky enough to be in the hallway. A door to the Jedi's right opened and a Sith Acolyte with an Assault droid came out, hearing the commotion. Jolee and Juhani both began to attack the Assault droid, the machine still a nuisance even without its shields. That left the Sith Acolyte to Revan, who wasted no time in depriving the man of his life.

He could sense that the Acolyte knew he was no match for the 'Jedi' in front of him, and the fear was rolling off of this Sith in tidal waves. Curling his lips back over his teeth, Revan gave a psychotic smile and watched the Acolyte's eyes widen in horror, feeling a small thrill of power at the knowledge that he could still instill fear. The former Sith Lord lunged at the Acolyte faster than the Sith could fully react, thrusting his violet blade in the Acolyte's face and spinning as the Sith barely blocked the attack, ripping his lightsaber down across the man's chest. The next room contained another Acolyte, and Jolee ran him through with his green blade, dispatching him with ease.

No other rooms were available in the eastern corridor, and the trio now found themselves in the southern section of the temple. The first room they came across contained cylinders filled with life support packs which the group needed no further heeding to take. This area was connected to three other rooms, two of little consequence and one that held a computer and was in turn connected to a long L-shaped hallway.

"Those are the turrets I disabled," Revan said as they stepped inside the hallway, looking around and noticing that the area showed signs of recent use. The dust was disturbed, footprints were still visible and Revan could feel Malak's distinct Force signature still lingering in the walls. As he rounded the dogleg of the hallway, he stopped short as if smacked in the face. A slab of stone with manacles to hold a prisoner down was in front of the three Jedi, and no one had to say a single word to know what it had been used for. Making a noise in his throat, whether intentional or the result of distress, Revan turned away and placed a hand against the wall to keep himself steady. He was trembling, and both Jolee and Juhani were nearly suffocated by the raw fury that was crashing into them off of their friend.

"That _bastard_ is going to suffer for this..." Revan said through clenched teeth, his voice barely a whisper. "He is going to wish that I had never survived..."

Jolee opened his mouth to say something but Revan's eyes settled on his own and he stopped out of shock and a small amount of fear. Revan's gaze was filled with what Jolee had expected: hatred, pain, guilt – but it no longer held the incorruptibility that had tempered his emotions for so long. The darkness that had been a mere shadow, fleeting and beyond grasp, was now reflected back at Jolee with a horrible clarity and vibrancy. It dared him to speak, dared him to challenge, dared him to object.

Jolee closed his mouth but stared at Revan hard, letting the young man know that this battle would be fought another time. Revan suddenly turned and walked back the way they had come, already inside another room by the time his friends caught up with him. Two prototype assault droids turned to look at them at the moment when they all filed through the door, their shields powering up and glowing bright red.

The old man transferred the Force into electricity and completely destroyed one of the droids while Revan tossed and ion grenade at the other, watching as its shields flickered before coming back on. Frustrated at the lack of effect, he slammed the droid with a wave of the Force, sending it screeching into a wall; holding it there, Revan clenched his fist, crumpling the droid into a heap of worthless scrap beyond salvage and tossing it with no small amount of disdain against the side wall. The door in front of them opened to reveal a descending corridor with another door at the end, one which opened for them as well and led them into a room that stretched out before them and branched to both the left and the right. The two guard droids that attempted to attack them met with a similar demise as their upper-level brethren: Revan smashed them together and drove them into the ceiling twice before flinging them out of the way.

The anger coming from Revan had not diminished in the least, and Jolee began to worry. Usually, Revan could keep his rage in check if he had an outlet – battle – but this time, is seemed to only fuel his wrath. He knew that finding Bastila was going to be a painful process – both of them understood that the odds of her being able to resist Malak for this long were virtually non-existent – and Jolee prayed that Revan would be able to withstand whatever she tried to do to him when they found her.

Taking the left branch, Revan, Jolee and Juhani found a rune-covered pillar that was protected by two highly explosive and very deadly frag mines. Without a word, Juhani stepped forward and gracefully slipped between the mines with almost ridiculous effortlessness, retrieving a crystal from the pillar and discovering a data pad in the footlocker to her right. Handing both data pad and crystal to Revan, she resumed her usual place behind him, next to Jolee.

"Thanks," he murmured, flicking the data pad on and scanning the writing it contained. He tossed it to the ground with a grunt and fixed his eyes on the crystal in his hand, recognizing it almost instantly. "A Sapith crystal," he said. "Good find."

Juhani merely inclined her head slightly at his compliment, more concerned with the data pad. "What did that say?" she asked, gesturing to the cracked screen of the electronic device on the floor.

"I have to walk on the tiles in an H-pattern," Revan replied.

"So let us find these tiles."

Placing the crystal in his pack, Revan led his friends down the rightmost branch of the room, finding another open room with a tile puzzle on the floor and a closed door on the opposite side.

"Well there you go," the 'Jedi' muttered. "Walk on it in an H..." he continued, mumbling to himself. Stepping forward, he placed a foot on the one tile on the floor in front of him. The entire group lit up orange. Taking a step sideways, he touched the bottom right tile and began to walk straight forward. At the top right tile, he turned around and stepped back to the middle, going across to the left side now. Turning, he moved to the bottom left tile and started upward, just like the right side. As Revan stepped on the last tile, the orange H shape locked itself in place, and the doors in front of him unlocked and dusted themselves off, grating open almost sleepily, the open doorway like a yawning mouth. A single computer console resided in the room, and Revan approached it with caution.

(Welcome back, Revan,) it spoke, causing the young man draw back in surprise. (It has been a long time since you have accessed my database. I was beginning to wonder if you had been terminated.)

Revan smiled ruefully. (I almost was, but I'm hard to kill.)

(An obvious conclusion, given your presence here. However, my sensory input systems are detecting some significant changes in your composition since your last visit. Your neurological patters exhibit subtle yet substantive alterations in both thought patterns and information processing. These changes have been noted and recorded in my database,) it said.

(Your database?)

(I am a completely self-sufficient, autonomous, interactive database constructed by the Rakata to record and store the entire history of the species,) it explained. (However, since the collapse of the Infinite Empire, there have been few events worth recording, and nobody has sought to access the information stored in my database...) It paused. (Until you came along.)

Revan found that he rather liked this computer, and wondered just how long it had been here.

(Due to my systems' ability to monitor and repair themselves, you will find all the data in my archives has remained fully intact. Please choose the topic you wish information on.)

(Tell me about the history of Infinite Empire,) Revan asked, noting that the computer had referred to it earlier.

(At its peak, the Infinite Empire ruled over 500 planets and was composed of ten billion Rakata and over a trillion slaves scattered across the galaxy.) The computer seemed almost sad as it informed him of the next part. (But the glory of the Infinite Empire was built on war and slaughter; it was inevitable that it should collapse on itself. Conflict among power-hungry warlords escalated into full civil war. Worlds were ravaged and millions of lives were lost. Seeing the weakness of their oppressors, the slaves rebelled and overthrew their masters. And then came the plague.)

(The plague?)

(Its origins were unknown – perhaps the creation of an enslaved species, perhaps a mutation of a natural virus. It killed only Rakata, and it spread to every corner of the galaxy. The Infinite Empire crumbled into dust as the few Rakata survivors back here to their home world. All evidence of their existence was destroyed by the species they once enslaved. But even hidden here on their secret home world they were not safe. Millions died from the deadly plague, many more died in the never ending civil war.) The computer paused, as if taking a breath. (The history of the Rakata ended twenty thousand years ago. Now they are nothing but a few scattered tribes descended from the priest and warrior castes, still waging our never ending civil war.)

(Do you know anything about the Star Maps?) Revan asked, figuring if anyone or anything would know, it would be this computer.

(The Star Maps were built on conquered worlds a symbol of Rakatan dominance and glory. Each map showed the whole expanse of the Infinite Empire, with the Star Forge at the center. When the Empire fell, the Rakata fled back here to their home world. They sabotaged the Star Maps so the enslaved species could not use them to discover the Star Forge or this planet.)

"They didn't do a very good job of destroying them," Revan said under his breath.

(The Star Maps were created with the same technology as my own self-sufficient systems. Over the millennia, the maps have been slowly rebuilding and repairing themselves. As you informed me during your last visit, the Star Maps are still in a damaged and incomplete state. It is not possible to locate the Star Forge using a single map. However, the Star Maps have repaired themselves to the extent that it is possible to discover the Star Forge's location by combining bits of data from several of the maps, as you did.)

(Tell me about the Star Forge,) Revan requested, his insatiable lust for knowledge not dampened in the least, despite his brain wipe and amnesia.

(The Star Forge was constructed during the apex of the Infinite Empire's power. A true technological marvel, it is an enormous space station that serves as both factory and battle dreadnaught. The Star Forge can mass produce immense fleets with a minimum of time and resources. In addition, the Star Forge also shares much of the same technology used in my own construction.) The computer continued in a pensive tone. (In many ways, the Star Forge is like a living entity – it feeds, it hungers, it draws on the energy flowing through all living things – what you called the Force the last time you were here. The ability to feed and consume the Force is the key to the Star Forge's power, but ultimately it was what led to the destruction of the Infinite Empire.)

Revan was intrigued, and had an idea of where this was heading. (What do you mean?)

(The Rakata by nature are a cruel and savage species. The Star Forge fueled itself with the hatred inherent in its own creators, and in doing so, it accentuated these traits in the Builders. In your terminology,) it explained, (the Star Forge is a tool of the Dark side. It corrupts those who use it so it can generate greater and greater amounts of negative energy to fuel itself. The Builders thought they were strong enough to control this effect, but they were wrong. They became victims of their own creation, and eventually their hatred turned them against each other. Civil war destroyed the Infinite Empire,) the computer stressed, (a lesson to remember. Only one who is immensely strong in mind and will can harness the power of the Star Forge without suffering a similar fate.)

Revan wished that he had been recording that so that he could present it to the Jedi Council and prove to them that he hadn't been lost to the Dark side when he was Darth Revan.

(One last question. How can I shut off the disruptor field around this planet?)

(The disruptor field was constructed as the Star Forge's primary defense against enemy attack, and can only be deactivated from the upper levels of the temple.)

(How can I get to the upper levels of the temple, then? The door is sealed shut,) Revan reminded the computer.

(My systems control the doors to the upper levels, allowing only those who are worthy of the Rakata legacy to pass. The last time you were here, Revan, I unsealed the doors for you. However, the subtle neurological changes I detected in you earlier likely caused a failure in the recognition system that would have opened the doors for you. I have updated my databases to recognize the new configuration in your mind, Revan. The doors to the upper levels will once again open for you.)

(Thank you,) Revan replied. With no further questions and the nagging feeling that he was once again wasting time, he decided it was time to leave. (I must be going now.)

(As you wish,) the computer answered. (Please return if you find yourself in need of the information stored within my database.)

"So what was that all about?" Jolee asked as the trio began the trek back to the temple's main level.

"My brainwaves are different. What's new?"

"Same thing as the Star Map on Kashyyyk?"

"Pretty much."

The silence stretched on for long seconds, and it didn't take Jolee long to realize Revan wasn't going to expound any further. Since it was the same general situation as what had happened on Kashyyyk, the older Jedi figured that the door that had previously been locked was now open, thanks to Revan's neural configuration. Jolee noted his friend's mood and lack of willingness to converse with him – this was always the beginning of one of Revan's spirals into a dark, moody, introspective, anti-social and angry being who shut himself off from the rest of the world and refused to be around other humans, friends or otherwise. The oscillations of anger were still noticeable from him, though now beginning to fade in strength, and the old man noted the tight and controlled way he did everything: very efficient, not wasting an ounce of energy.

They had reached the main floor of the temple once more, and Revan took a right, going the opposite way they had originally come.

"Why this way, kid?" Jolee knew there was more than just curiosity behind the young man's choice of direction.

"Sith," he grunted monosyllabically and left it at that. Juhani and Jolee shared a glance, their look saying what both of them knew: the sight of where Bastila had been tortured was tormenting him endlessly.

"Is it anyone we should be concerned with?" Juhani inquired, implying Malak or a high-ranking Dark Jedi.

"I don't think so. Just one of them. The other two's Force auras aren't anywhere near staggering, so nothing to worry about," Revan replied in a softer tone than he had used with Jolee. The young man's vivid green eyes locked with the dark-skinned Jedi's brown ones and Jolee saw the insecurity in them before Revan tore his eyes away. He understood why Revan was being aloof with him, and he left his friend alone for now.

Revan was afraid that Jolee would see too much, see inside of him and try to "fix" him or "change" him or "help" him. He didn't want to be helped, or fixed, or changed – he wanted to be accepted with all of his faults until _he_ could fix them himself. He just wanted to be left alone to deal with his problems on his own, without the "wisdom" of the Jedi Council and their hypocritical Code.

"Revan..."

The former Sith Lord broke out of his thoughts to look at the beautiful Cathar woman to his left. She looked hesitant, as if regretting speaking in the first place, and he changed his face into a curious expression at her utterance of his name.

"I know...I know that you do not want us to pry, but..." she averted her yellow eyes to ground before meeting his again, "we are here for you...if you need us."

His mouth turned upward in a half-smile, and Juhani thought it interesting that a half-smile could convey such sadness. "Thank you," he said gently. "I'm sure I'll be taking you up on your offer soon."

The dark pessimism in his words would have been noticeable to even the most naive and clueless of sentients. Continuing on to the right, Revan peered inside an empty room and found nothing of use. Noticing a door adjoining to another room, he entered and crossed to this door, not bothering to ignite his lightsabers as two Dark Jedi sprang up from their spots on the floor and activated their own weapons.

"You're going to die either way," he said, stopping one of them before they could speak, "so just spare me, and shut the hell up."

The crimson blades of the Sith cast a sanguine glow around the dark room giving it an ominous feeling and illuminating the dark hatred in Revan's face, making him look even more fearsome and menacing. One of the Dark Jedi ran at the former Sith Lord only to stop short as his heart imploded, shredding itself into a million fibers of dead muscle tissue. Revan took the dead Sith's lightsaber and tossed it to the remaining Dark Jedi.

"Two weapons won't help you, but if it makes you feel better..."

The Dark Jedi barely had time to blink before his brain registered that Revan was no longer in front of him, and a small but lethally sharp dagger was being pressed against his throat. He felt the beads of sweat roll down his forehead and sting his eyes as the seconds dragged on, Revan slowly turning them to face another way, both waiting for some unseen signal. They heard the door behind them slide open and another lightsaber ignite with a snap-hiss.

To Juhani, everything seemed to happen at once; in Jolee's eyes, he watched each event as it unfolded.

Revan kicked the Dark Jedi forward, slicing his carotid and jugular at the same time, and spun, ducking as he did so to avoid the blast of Force lightning that the Sith Master sent his way. As he spun, he flung the dagger and unclipped both lightsabers, igniting them and rising to his feet. The dagger pierced through the Sith Master's armor and hit him in the left shoulder, just between the joint. Howling in rage and pain, he ripped the dagger out and hurled it back at Revan, who blocked it and spun again, his violet lightsaber cutting an arc through the air and clashing with the Sith's lightsaber as his off-handed crimson one slashed the Sith's abdomen. As the Master stumbled, Revan flipped over him and landed deftly behind him, jumping up and kicking out firmly with both feet, connecting with the Sith's back and sending him careening into Jolee's waiting green blade. Jolee pushed the Master off of his lightsaber and ignored him as he slumped to the floor, his eyes glazed over with eternal sleep.

Jolee extended a hand and helped Revan to his feet, a question out of his mouth before the young man was fully upright.

"Were you waiting for that Sith to come through the door?"

Revan stared at him for a second before replying. "Yes...but it didn't quite go as I had planned. I was going to try and face the other way, but he came through the door before I could maneuver that way."

Jolee nodded but said nothing. Two sentences was more than he had gotten out of the 'Jedi' in a while and he wasn't going to push his luck. Revan was stubborn and prideful as hell, and the old man knew that it was best to just leave him be.

"Were these the only Sith on the level?"

The 'Jedi' turned to the Cathar woman, reaching out through the Force before answering her question. "I don't feel anyone else near us."

"So we can go to the temple summit now?"

Revan nodded. "Yeah, we can get to the summit and shut off the disruptor field. Let's go."

The trio made their way back around to the front of the temple, back to the massive door that had previously been sealed shut. As Revan approached this time, however, the structure snarled open and allowed them to pass with no further resistance. They ascended for a short while, the floor leveling out and becoming a large, open room with a doorway leading outside. Revan paused, his brows furrowing and his expressive green eyes and handsome face filling with pain.

"Anything but that..." he whispered, clenching his eyes shut.

Jolee placed a hand on the young man's back and shoved firmly, forcing him to keep walking. "I know it hurts, but you have to face it. You're the only one who can bring her back."

The anger that had dissipated from him for a few brief moments returned full force, mingling with his pain and sadness and creating a tempestuous whirlwind of Force around him. Revan said nothing as they emerged into the bright Rakatan sunlight, its pleasant heat far from comforting and its glare blinding. He didn't have to look up to see who was in front of him – he felt it all too acutely through their bond. His mouth twitched into a miserable smile as he realized that their bond was open again, allowing him to feel what he had been hoping against for so long.

"Revan – I knew you'd come for me."

Raising his eyes, he saw what he had prayed he would never have to see. Bastila stood before him, clad in the robes of a Dark Jedi, her yellow double-bladed lightsaber now a blood-red color. Her face itself was the same, but at the same time changed. Her blue-grey eyes, normally shining with a stubborn defiance, were now cold and filled with anger – much the same way his looked, he figured. Her mouth was curled in a haughty smirk, marring the once innocent beauty of her face.

"Malak thought you might be afraid to enter the temple again, but he doesn't know you like I do. Not since you've changed," she finished.

"Bastila, don't be a fool! We have to leave now. You need to escape from Malak!" Jolee shouted, his frustration at seeing Bastila like this taking over.

She gave an incredulous laugh. "Escape? You don't understand. I have sworn allegiance to Lord Malak and the Sith. I am no longer a pawn of the Jedi Council."

"A pawn of the Jedi Council?" Revan interjected, feeling as if he should be saying her words instead. "What are you talking about?"

Bastila's stunning eyes locked onto his and he felt a rush of emotions flood over him. He pushed them away quickly, but he knew that she had felt them.

"Surely you know what I mean, Revan. Look at what the Council did to you; they turned you into their puppet. The same thing they do to all who are truly strong in the Force."

Revan felt a twinge of anger at being called a puppet but let her continue.

"They speak of the Dark side as something to be feared. But in reality, their only goal is to manipulate those who are strong in the Force. The fear of the Dark side is a tool to maintain control." Her voice gained an air of stating the obvious. "Why do you think the Jedi forbid you and Malak from joining the Mandalorian Wars? They knew you would realize your true potential and break free of their domination."

Revan was not surprised at her words. It was the least he had expected Malak to do – brainwash her with false Sith teachings – but the passion with which she said the words unnerved him. She almost believed what she was telling him. Almost, but not quite.

"Malak has shown me how the Jedi Council have been using me the same way the once tried to use you," Bastila was saying. "They've been holding me back because they knew one day I would surpass them all."

Revan was shaking his head sadly. "I can't believe this...how could you betray me like this, Bastila?"

He had made sure to make her betrayal personal. It _was _personal, and he wanted to make her feel the pain he was feeling. She wasn't so far gone that he couldn't manipulate her emotions through their bond, though it was unintentionally. He wanted her back, and his subconscious was going to make him do anything to accomplish that goal.

"I resisted at first," she answered, her voice patient. "I endured the Sith torments with the passionless serenity of a true Jedi, emptying my mind," she continued, scorn flooding her words. "But after a week of endless tortures I finally saw the truth. Malak forced me to acknowledge my anger and pain. He showed me the liberating power of these emotions. Then he made me see how the Jedi Council has denied me what is mine by right!"

"Denied you what?" Revan snapped. "You have a gift, not a right!"

"The Jedi Council gladly used my Battle Meditation in their wars, but they still treated me like a child – like an inferior. They were jealous of my power...of what I could become!" Bastila answered with ardor. "They wanted me to bow and call them Master and follow their Code and obey their every order. But all the while they were exploiting my Battle Meditation for their own use!"

He felt a deep sadness suffuse throughout him at her words as he saw what Malak had done. He had preyed upon one of her greatest weaknesses, pride, and had made her the victim of the Jedi Council. That was how it always worked, as far as he had seen – you became a Sith, not because you were evil, though there were some who fit that requirement, but because you were selfish and wanted to be out from under the restrictions of the Jedi Code – and the Sith Code was perfect because it was all about you and the power you could achieve. Revan had always known this, and it had been the one thing that had kept him from truly becoming a Sith during the Mandalorian Wars and the subsequent Jedi Civil War.

"Bastila...please fight this! I'll help you, you know I will!" he pleaded. Words were deserting him. He had no idea what to say, and it showed.

For a infinitesimal moment, he saw her defenses waver but the façade was back in place just as quickly as it had gone. "You are a sad little fool," she replied acerbically. "You speak as if I were the same Bastila that you've known all along. But freed from the control of the Jedi Council I've become much, much more." She sighed, looking something close to sad. "I almost wish you could see things as I do now. I wish you could join me and taste true power once again. Sadly," she finished, "I doubt you are even capable any longer. With the power of the Star Forge Malak will destroy the Republic and conquer the galaxy. And I will be the apprentice at his side – after I prove my worth by killing you!"

Revan threw up mental defenses just in time as he felt her try and reach out to him through the Force. Jolee and Juhani weren't as fast, and cried out as a blinding pain exploded inside of their heads, incapacitating them. Revan's hands acted against his will, igniting his lightsabers and bringing them up defensively.

"You can't kill me," he told her, watching as her eyes flared with renewed anger because she knew he was right. "Stop being a fool!" he yelled, his own anger at her betrayal taking hold. "All that preaching about the Dark side and its dangers, was it all for nothing? You're nothing more than a hypocrite, Bastila – realize that!"

She lunged at him, striking at his left side. "Ignorance and hypocrisy are two different things, Revan!" she yelled back as he blocked her attack and shoved her away. "I spoke out of blind ignorance, nothing more!"

"Forget your pride for two seconds and see what you've done!" He thrust his violet blade in her face only to have it knocked away. His crimson blade came up to stop her parry, and he held their weapons there for a moment. "You haven't just betrayed the Jedi, Bastila, you've betrayed _me_. I was there for you for how many months, and you stab me in the back like this? The power you hunger for will desert you, Bastila, just like it deserted me!"

"You are a small setback in the grand scheme of things. I would rather you be with me than be my enemy, Revan, know that. But you refuse to see the truth, and I can't have you in my way," she shot back, and he felt through their bond that part of her didn't want to kill him, but that that small part was being crushed down by her new Sith-manufactured personality.

Shoving downward, he moved her double-bladed lightsaber just out of the way enough to let him plant a hard but not violent kick in her side. Still, he felt something give, and she wheezed painfully as she stumbled backwards. He charged forward hoping to disarm her but she flung him backwards with a large Force wave.

_**Thud! Screeeech!**_

Revan hit the stone beneath him and winced as his armor wailed in protest as he slid across the rough floor. Picking himself up quickly, he relaxed somewhat as he saw that Bastila was not attacking him any more.

"You are...stronger than I would have thought possible...after what the Jedi Council did to you," she gasped, a fiery pain lancing through her ribs with each breath. Bastila knew that one, if not more, was broken but she didn't heal herself just yet. "Seems that Malak was wrong...the power of the Dark side is not lost on you after all, Revan."

"I'm not that man any more. You know that."

"You can deny what you are, Revan...but you are only fooling yourself. I know the truth. I have seen the shadows inside your mind," she confronted him. He knew that she was right – even now, the darkness inside of him was clawing to get out, to find release.

"Remember," Bastila said, "I was there when you nearly died in the trap set...by the Jedi Council. I used the Force to preserve your life, Revan...we are forever linked by my actions on that bridge!"

"We're linked by more than just this bond, Bastila," Revan said, now confronting her.

She snorted derisively, grimacing at the pain it caused. "Do not mistake the power of the Force for love, Revan. It does not exist. Power is what forged our bond...and power is what made us both tools of the Jedi Council. They tried to exploit the bond between us," she told him, seeing the revelation hit him before she finished her words. "They hoped I would draw out your memories to lead them to the Star Forge. We..." she paused, catching her breath, "We were slaves to their will – like all who follow the Jedi Code!" Bastila's voice took on an almost comforting tone as she spoke. "In our shared visions of the Star Maps...I also felt the so called taint within you. I resisted it at first," she said, "but now...I embrace the power of the Dark side...your Dark side!"

He noticed that her pauses to catch her breath were becoming more frequent and a tendril of guilt crept up for hurting her. Forcing himself to focus on the present, he took in her words.

His green eyes, filled with so many conflicting emotions, narrowed suspiciously. "What are you saying?"

Bastila's voice carried a triumphant but conspiratorial air to it. "You deserve to be the true Master of the Sith...not Malak. I see this now. Together we can destroy...your old apprentice. Join with me...and reclaim your lost identity."

It was his turn to snort. "How can I reclaim my identity if I don't even remember it?"

"Your mind was too badly damaged...to fully restore your memories, Revan. But your strength of will...the essence of who and what you are...these things still remain! Once long ago you defied the Jedi Council...freeing yourself from their control. You claimed your rightful title of Dark Lord of the Sith. Together...we can defeat Malak and take back what is yours!" she explained, almost pleading with him at the end.

Black humor pervaded his words. "How do I know you won't betray me?"

"I need deny my passions no longer, Revan. I would stand by your side gladly, as your lover and apprentice," she admitted, shocking him. He remembered when there was a time he would have been overjoyed to hear her say that they could be together. Now...now it just hurt, more than anything she had said so far.

"I swore allegiance to Malak...only because I thought you had lost the power you once wielded. But this...this would be much better!" Bastila's emotions through the bond showed him for a fleeting moment that being intimate with him was something she truly wanted before she gained control of them once more. "I would be utterly yours, master!" He winced as she called him master. "Together we would destroy Malak...and you would reclaim...the mantle of Dark Lord!"

Revan's mouth hung open for a long while before he was able to form words. The pain of knowing that she was offering herself as a nothing more than an object of his desire tore at him horribly. He felt responsible, like he hadn't shown her enough that he loved her for who she was and not solely because of her body.

"No, I...I don't want you like this," he said, his voice barely audible. "I want the woman I knew."

Her anger at his rejection coursed through their bond to him, and he hoped that he had done the right thing.

"You are a pathetic fool, Revan! Together we could have defeated Malak...and ruled over and Empire...but now I will be at Lord Malak's side instead!" Bastila fumed. "You will be crushed with the Republic...and all the fools who bow down to the Jedi Council. No one can stand against the power of the Star Forge...and the Sith fleet!"

No one tried to stop her as she turned and fled to the small ship that rested on the temple summit's floor behind her. The three Jedi watched in melancholy silence as the single-passenger craft lifted off from the ground and disappeared into the atmosphere of Rakata Prime, presumably to rejoin Malak at the Star Forge.

Revan had been able to cut himself off from his emotions during most of their confrontation, and they now came crashing down onto him – and he was powerless to stop them. A raw howl of mingled rage and desperation ripped itself from his throat, forming one word:

"_Malak!_"

- - -

Roughly a million miles away, Malak's head snapped up from the bowed position it had been in, his eyes searching, the barest hint of fear reflected in their yellow-grey depths.

"Revan," he murmured, his old master's name coming out as a growl in his mechanical voice.

"Is something wrong, Lord Malak?" an officer asked. Normally, Malak would have tossed the man halfway across the ship for his irksome question, but Malak was too preoccupied with other matters to waste time on inflicting pain.

"I want to be informed the exact moment my apprentice returns," he ordered. "I need to speak with her immediately."

"Of course, Lord Malak."

Left alone again, Malak reflected on the past minute. He knew that voice better than anyone; the way the fury permeated his words, the way his mere inflection could still make Malak cringe involuntarily. Revan hadn't meant to reach out to him through the Force, but he had nonetheless. Malak knew the source of Revan's wrath, and for the first time he questioned if sending Bastila to confront him on the planet's surface was the wisest move.

**No matter,** he thought, **what is done is done. I am too close now to second-guess myself. Revan will come here, just like I planned, and I will let the Star Forge take care of my old master. Even if it does not kill him, he cannot defeat me here. Not when the Star Forge fuels my power.**

If it could have, a wicked smile would have twisted itself across the Dark Lord's face; as it was, a dark and malicious gleam shone from his sunken eyes, more than making up for his lack of ability to grin. Revan was just where he wanted him, and he was not going to let his master slip away this time.

- - -

Revan stared at the computer screen and re-read the sentence for the hundredth time, trying to remember what it said. His mind and body were too drained to retain information, and he slammed the screen with a fist in frustration. He felt Juhani's hands grab his arm firmly and drag him away from the console, letting Jolee handle the simple task of disabling the disruptor field and the shield that surrounded the temple. As they made their way back to the temple courtyard, Jolee didn't know which was worse: the Revan he had seen inside the temple, with the shadows reflected in his eyes and out in the open, or the Revan he saw now, broken, hollow, with the darkness simmering just below the surface, shoved there to seethe and boil until it exploded.

"Revan I –"

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Tell me what to do."

"How do you know what I was going to say?" Jolee asked, chagrined at Revan's rudeness.

"Because I know you, and I know you want to give me advice. And I'm sure it's good advice, but frankly, I don't give a damn right now." He turned to look at the old man, staring hard into his brown eyes. "I'm in too deep. It's too late to tell me what I should do – my mind's made up, and nothing is going to change it."

"We are your friends, Revan. We can't change your mind, but we want to help you make the best decision possible," Juhani put in. "But you have to listen to us."

"I have listened to you, and you've never lead me wrong. But this isn't your fight now. You can only give an outside point of view. What happens now is between me and Malak. Whatever we decide will determine what comes next for...everything," Revan said resolutely. "And I can tell you that neither of us will quit until the other is dead. I'm not looking to rule the galaxy. I don't want power. I don't want an empire. I don't even want to be a Jedi any more. I just want this to end. I want to watch Malak die, and know that it will all just _stop_."

"What about Bastila?" Jolee inquired gently.

Revan was silent for a time, his face sad and pensive. "I'm going to get her back. I love her too much to let her go, even if she doesn't want my help. She's mine, and I sure as hell won't let that gutless bastard take her from me!"

They had reached the temple courtyard and now traveled in silence, descending the ramp and approaching the Elders that waited at its base.

(Were you able to shut down the planetary defense shield?) one of the Elders asked.

(Yes. Thank you for your help, and your trust. If you ever need me for anything, I'll be glad to assist in whatever way I can,) Revan replied, attempting to drop his dark attitude for the duration of their conversation.

(We must thank you as well, Revan, as you have rid of us the nuisance that the One presented day after day. Our home is open to you any time you need a safe haven. We wish you luck on your quest – we would aid your further, but I am afraid our people would do little good against the kind of enemy you face.)

A few other words were shared, and the trio of Jedi left the temple courtyard and made their way to the main beach where the **_Ebon Hawk_** was 'docked.' Revan saw all of his friends waiting outside of the ship as he rounded the corner of the path to the ship and braced himself for the barrage of questions he knew was going to come. Carth was the first to speak, and he asked the worst question of all.

"Where's Bastila? Is she all right? What happened up..." he trailed as he saw Revan's face. "Revan?"

"She's Malak's apprentice now," the former Sith Lord said quietly.

Carth looked stunned. "But...we can get her back, right? I mean, you came back, so she can too, can't she?"

"I'm going to get her back," Revan said, half to appease Carth and half to reassure himself. "But first we have to go find this Suvam Tan, remember? He has something of mine, and I'd like it back."

Jolee and Juhani herded the rest of the crew into the ship behind Revan and inconspicuously asked them not to grill Revan with questions. The 'Jedi' went immediately to the navicomputer and punched in the coordinates that Suvam had left in his transmission and sunk wearily into the co-pilot's chair as the **_Ebon Hawk_** took off from the ground. He realized that Carth must have repaired the ship's engines and hyperdrive while he had been out, and was thankful for the Republic soldier's piloting and mechanical skills. Letting his head loll against the headrest, Revan closed his eyes and allowed himself to snatch a few precious minutes of sleep as they hurtled through space towards the Yavin Space Station.

- - -

He was awakened from his light slumber when the ship jolted from its docking with the space station. Rubbing his eyes, Revan stood and went immediately to the exit ramp without bothering to ask anyone to come with him. A long, dark corridor stretched before him; even so, Revan made no extra hurry to get to the end of the hallway. If the gloomy reception was meant to make him nervous, it wasn't working. If there was one thing Revan wasn't afraid of, it was darkness – he had tasted it firsthand and would never be unprepared for what it held.

As he approached the third door in front of him, it whooshed open to reveal a medium-sized Rodian who looked somewhat surprised to see him.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon," he spoke in Basic. "I figured your mission would take priority."

"What's going to happen is going to happen, whether I wait an extra day or not," Revan replied. "You have something that belongs to me?"

Suvam smiled. "Yes, I do. A lightsaber crystal that was salvaged from one of your lightsabers after Malak's attempt on your life." The Rodian pulled out a cyan colored crystal and laid it on the countertop before him. "The Mantle of the Force. When I heard you were alive, I put it away to save, just in case you came looking for it. I was told not too long after that that you were amnesic, and that the Jedi Council was using you to discover something called the Star Forge. I decided to contact you then, to let you know of your lost possession."

Revan raised an eyebrow, suspicious but not worried. "You know all of that about me? What else do you know?"

"Much more, but now is not the time. We can discuss your past when the galaxy is not under threat. Here," he said, pushing the crystal toward Revan, "take it. It is rightfully yours, I cannot charge for it. There is a workbench over there if you wish to put it in right now. I would suggest that course of action, if I were you."

Nodding, the 'Jedi' scooped the crystal up from the countertop and removed his violet lightsaber from his belt. Opening the hilt, he removed the color crystal and paused.

"It goes where the color crystal goes, right?"

"Though it dictates far more than color, that is where it goes, yes."

Revan placed the Mantle of the Force crystal in the color slot and closed the hilt of his weapon, making sure everything was in place before he tested the new crystal. Thumbing the power switch, he couldn't suppress look of surprise as he felt the power pulsing from the silvery cyan blade, flowing down into his arm, making the weapon an extension of his body.

"We need to talk more often," the former Sith Lord said seriously while switching off the lightsaber. "You also mentioned something that belonged to the Jedi Order?"

"Ah yes, that. It is another crystal that I happened to discover during my travels, but this crystal came with a lightsaber. Once I learned what it was, I kept quiet until now. Some people will kill for Jedi artifacts, you know," Suvam said, getting up from behind the countertop and going back into a separate room. When he returned he was holding a small, unassuming box just large enough to house a cylindrical hilt. "This," he said as he worked on opening the box, "is the Heart of the Guardian. It has never turned on for me, though I have come to believe that it will only activate for the right person."

"And you think that person might be me?" the 'Jedi' asked, knowing that Suvam wouldn't have told him about it unless he thought Revan could activate it.

"Yes, I think it's you. You've had a...rocky past to say the least, but as of right now, you're our galaxy's sole defender. If you can't defeat Malak, then no one will. I can already tell that you won't be reclaiming the title of Dark Lord any time soon, though you aren't exactly the epitome of a Light side Jedi. I couldn't care less, to be honest," the Rodian went on. "If this lightsaber works for you, then you will have a job, Revan. And that job will be to defend the galaxy from any threat that presents itself. Or that's what the ancient texts told me," Suvam added with a grin. He had finally gotten the box opened and he carefully pulled out a beautifully carved lightsaber hilt, perfectly cylindrical and expertly crafted. "This crystal supposedly only appeared in the galaxy's times of greatest need in the past, and it only seems fit that I rediscovered it now to pass on to you."

Suvam handed the lightsaber to Revan who took it and studied it carefully for a long while, feeling the difference in the power of the Heart of the Guarding crystal from the Mantle of the Force. While the Mantle of the Force seemed to connect to him through the Force, the Heart of the Guardian exuded power in its purest form – raw energy waiting to be harnessed. Placing his thumb over the power button, Revan hesitated. What if it didn't activate? What did that say about him? About his destiny? Glancing at Suvam, who nodded, he took breath and held it, pressing firmly on the switch to ignite the weapon.

For a split-second, Revan was horrified that the weapon wasn't going to activate, but his fears were blown away when a blindingly brilliant blade erupted from the hilt, glowing a powerful bronze color and pulsating gently.

For all of his knowledge, wit, and charisma, Revan could only manage one word:

"Holy..."

Suvam was enraptured as well, the bronze blade captivating the two men like the sweet song of a treacherous siren. Switching the Heart of the Guardian to his right hand, Revan picked up the Mantle of the Force with his left and ignited that one as well, twirling both blades experimentally. Finally he switched them off and looked at Suvam, glancing down at the weapons in his hands one more time.

"I have to pay you something for this," he said. "I can't just take these."

Suvam gave Revan a patient smile. "No my friend. Both of them are rightfully yours."

The young man shook his head. "Here," he said, setting down a sum of 4,000 credits. "It's the least I can do. Money's not an issue. You deserve more than that."

The Rodian was staring at his new friend in disbelief. "Two thousand credits for each? Are you insane? I can't charge you that much!"

"I said money's not an issue," Revan repeated. "I've probably got enough to buy your entire space station. I'm cheap. I never buy things unless I have to. Trust me, I have a lot of credits."

Suvam grinned at the human. "You are too kind. For your generosity, I'm going to give you a twenty per cent discount on all subsequent purchases. Deal?"

"I won't say no to that, but you don't owe me anything, Suvam. Really."

The Rodian held up his hand, signaling that his decision was final. "You need to go. Your lady friend needs you more than I need your credits." He laughed at Revan's shocked look. "I told you I know much more about you than you think. Now go. Go! Use those lightsabers. Kick Malak's bald, pasty backside for me."

Revan's face split into a wide grin that masked his sadness as he turned to go. "I'll pay you a visit once this is over, all right? Keep me updated if you move!" he called behind him as he jogged back to the ship.

"Will do my friend, will do," Suvam said quietly as the young man disappeared back into his ship. He sunk back into his chair and prayed that he hadn't seen the troubled young man for the last time.

- - -

"Did you get the crystals?"

Revan turned to his Republic friend, holding up the two lightsabers. "Both of them." He ignited the cyan blade with a silver glow. "Mantle of the Force." Then he activated the bronze blade. "Heart of the Guardian."

Carth's eyes were wider than usual. "Uh, yeah. Put those things away. I can _feel_ the power from them."

"It'll be the last thing Malak feels," Revan said. "Other than the pain from my blade going through his chest."

Carth instantly noticed that his friend's dark countenance was back and bid him farewell, wisely leaving his friend to his own feelings. Revan retreated to his room and collapsed on his bed, his thoughts now returning to Bastila and the looming confrontation with Malak. The visit with Suvam had brought some levity to his otherwise horribly miserable day and he was thankful for small miracles. Running both of his hands through his somewhat shaggy but soft, dark hair, Revan sighed heavily. He was going to have to fight Bastila again, he knew. If nothing else, Malak would use her to buy him time to set a trap or something similar, Revan mused. The hollowness inside at Bastila's betrayal returned and the young man buried the pain deep. Shoving it away was easier than dealing with it, and he knew that if he dealt with it, it would open old wounds as well and force him to come to terms with other hurts in his life. That was something he couldn't afford to do right now, not when he was so close to finally killing Malak.

Revan felt the ship rock with an explosion and he knew by the large amount of Force signatures around that they were flying through the midst of a massive space battle. Clipping his two new weapons to his belt and equipping himself with other sharp arms, the former Sith Lord joined Carth in the cockpit.

"What's going on?" he asked curtly as he slid into the co-pilot's seat.

"Master Vandar told me to board the Star Forge with a couple of Jedi strike teams, so that's what I'm trying to do," Carth replied in a tight voice, most of his concentration on flying the craft they were in. Revan kept an eye on the instruments as they maneuvered through the colossal space battle that raged around them, and watched as two small ships with Jedi on board were shot down.

"Hold on, this isn't going to be a pretty landing!" Carth barked as they hurtled into the enormous hangar of the Star Forge. Revan was already out of the cockpit and leaping out of the half-down exit ramp as the **_Ebon Hawk_** screeched to a halt, doing a somersault to avoid injuring himself. Jolee followed scant seconds later with Juhani not far behind, both with lightsabers drawn and ready for battle. Revan ignited his blades and ignored the looks of shock on the Jedi's faces from the strike teams.

"I am who I am," he snapped. "Get used to it. Ignore the weapons and ignore me. I'm just another body."

"Come on," a dark haired female Jedi said, taking his advice and ignoring the fact that he was the Jedi's ex-greatest enemy, "we should strike while we've still got the element of – damn!"

"You were saying?" Revan asked as ten Dark Jedi poured out of an elevator.

The female looked between him and the Dark Jedi for a second before ordering him away. "Go!" she said. "We'll hold this hangar for you!"

The Sith and Jedi clashed in a brilliant display of colors, both sides battling furiously, one to hold ground, the other to take it back. The Jedi strike prevailed with minimal losses, and Revan and his two companions were already safely on the other side of another door and making their way through the first deck of the Star Forge.

- - -

Malak stood on Deck 2 of the Star Forge, watching the giant factory manufacture parts and machinery with the greatest of ease. It amazed him how powerful the Rakatan creation was, even after all the time he spent in its halls.

"Lord Malak!" a voice broke through his thoughts. The Dark Lord turned to see a Sith Master approaching with an apprehensive look on his face.

"What is it?" He had long ago ceased expending the energy to kill the messenger for bringing bad news.

"Four Jedi strike teams have boarded the Star Forge, along with Revan and his companions!"

Malak thought for a moment, debating on how to deal with this new development. "My Dark Jedi will take care of the Jedi's strike teams. Dispatch the droids to greet Revan. We will test the limits of the Star Forge's power on my old master."

- - -

"Malak knows we're here!" Revan barked as four Star Forge Assault droids came rumbling down the metal path. "Get rid of their shields!"

All three Jedi blasted the Assault droids with a sizeable amount of Force lightning, shorting out their shields. Revan slashed one of the droid's arms and was surprised when his lightsaber didn't immediately go through. In fact, it bounced off and shorted out for a few seconds. He dodged a swipe from the Assault droid and took a closer look at its armor.

"They're plated with cortosis armor!" he yelled. "Go for the circuits, it's the only place your lightsabers will do any real dam –"

_**Smack! Thud!**_

Revan was cut off as an Assault droid slammed him in the back, sprawling him out on the metal floor. Maneuvering onto his back he rolled to the right to avoid the stomp of another Assault droid and thrust his bronze blade up into the unprotected underside of the droid. It dropped with a heavy thud and sparked profusely, shuddering as it died. Turning his back to the pile of debris, he saw that Jolee and Juhani had managed to destroy one other droid and were separately battling the remaining two.

_**Bzzzzzzt! BOOM!**_

Revan was lifted off of his feet for the second time and sent three meters forward to land spread-eagle on the floor. Picking himself up as quickly as he could and calling his lightsabers to his hands Revan noticed that the previously silent pile of scrap had exploded with finality. The back of his head throbbed painfully and he felt a warm trickle of blood run down his neck from where an open gash in his scalp must have been. He watched Jolee Force push a droid off of the gangway they were on and electrocute the last Assault droid that Juhani was battling, allowing her to shove her lightsaber through the single eye-socket on the droid's head. Revan joined his friends and looked at them, seeing his own look of surprise reflected in their faces. None of them had expected the Star Forge to create droids that were that combat effective or that hard to kill with a lightsaber.

Revan clipped his lightsabers to his belt and removed a retractable vibroblade from it instead. Pressing a small button on the weapon's hilt, the blade sprung forth, gleaming silver in the glare of the lights. The three Jedi took the eastern path, reaching a door within a minute. An explosion knocked them all of their feet as two more Assault droids lumbered through the opening. Juhani shocked them with lighting this time and Revan found that his vibroblade worked much better than his lightsabers had. He cleaved off the head of the first droid and rolled out of the way of the second's attempt to chop him in half at the waist, slicing the droid's arm off before kicking him into the abyss that stretched beneath the narrow walkways they were navigating. As the trio passed through this door the gaping maw below them disappeared and was replaced with solid metal, but that comfort didn't last long. They dispatched another Assault droid and came to a halt as a threesome of Dark Jedi were locked in battle with an equal number of Jedi Knights. The walkways had returned, though with low sides to them to keep one from completely walking off. The Dark Jedi turned as they struck down the last of the Knights and waited for Revan and his companions to come to them.

"More Jedi to kill," he heard the female state smugly as she headed straight for him.

"You obviously don't know who we are," Revan called out and watched as the female Sith recognized him. She blocked and parried his first few strikes but was no match for the former Dark Lord of Sith, nor were her companions a match for his.

"We?" Jolee asked as they stepped over the still-warm corpses.

"I'm not the only one who can kill a Dark Jedi," was the young man's reply. Heading to the left again, they spotted two more Dark Jedi guarding another door. Revan, Jolee and Juhani all Force pushed them at the same time, slamming them into the door they were guarding and crushing their bodies against the metal, Revan flinging them over the side of the gangway just to seal their fate. The door in front of them opened and the trio stepped inside the elevator, taking a quick respite as the machine rode upwards to the second deck of the Star Forge.

- - -

"Lord Malak..." the same Sith Master as before said, albeit very hesitantly.

"Did the droids pass their test?" Malak asked, though he knew the answer.

"No, Lord Malak, they have failed in killing your master."

"I never expected them to. They did slow him down, however." Malak's yellow-grey eyes shone with malice. "Can you stand against the fury of the Star Forge, Revan?" he murmured to himself. "We shall see." He addressed the Sith beside him. "Deploy all Dark Jedi, Sith Troopers and Apprentices."

"Yes sir."

The Sith Master hurried off to do his Lord's bidding; Malak continued to speak to himself.

"It seems that the Force is pushing us toward a final confrontation, my old master. Then we shall finally see who the more powerful Sith Lord is."

- - -

Revan stepped off of the elevator first and gripped the hilts of his lightsabers tightly, not liking the dead silence that permeated the level. Silence always preceded a large attack, and knowing Malak, Revan knew that the attack would come with no holds barred.

"What do you think Malak's going to do, Revan?" Jolee asked.

"Malak was always one to show brute force and overwhelming strength," the current Dark Lord's former master replied. "He'll send everything he's got at us in the hopes that it just might kill us, but with the mindset to simply accomplish slowing us down and wearing us out. We'll be facing the entire army of the Star Forge," he ended quietly.

"How should we approach this?"

"It depends on what he does. If he sends them out in waves, we hold our ground, kill everything that moves, proceed to the next point, kill another wave and so on. There are only so many men he can send, Jolee. They have to stop eventually."

"Now or never, huh kid?" the old man said with humor tinged with melancholy.

Holding both lightsaber hilts in one hand, Revan grasped Jolee's free one with his in a gesture of brotherly affection. "You may be the most annoying, the most talkative, and the oldest coot I've ever had to put up with, but I want you to know it's been fun as hell. I wouldn't trade finding you on Kashyyyk for anything."

Jolee's kind brown eyes welled up with tears that never fell. "Dammit, you're making me all misty-eyed! You're a good kid, Revan – don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise. Dark, Light, they're words to me. Remember that. You've got a good heart and a good head. Don't ever lose them."

"Okay, okay, enough soul-searching. I love both of you. Juhani, don't you dare say a word. We _will_ have time for it later."

The Cathar nodded, knowing what he meant and grasped his hand firmly as well.

Revan took a deep breath and felt the Dark side energies swirling around him, pulsing through the Star Forge like some twisted, corrupted heartbeat.

"This isn't going to be pretty," he warned. "Not just the battles...I'm not going to hold myself back anymore."

His companions said nothing and he knew that they had already accepted this fact as unavoidable. They walked strait ahead until they reached the open area in front of them and turned left. Three Dark Jedi, two Apprentices and six grenadiers came pouring out of an adjacent hallway. Closing his eyes as they approached, Revan dropped his barriers and let out a heavy breath as he felt the Dark side flow through him, touching his anger, his fear, his hatred, his guilt and his pain. He opened his eyes slowly and ignited his lightsabers, bronze blade in his right hand, silvery cyan in his left.

"Here they come," he muttered, feeling his anger build with each passing second. They weren't his main goal, but they would pay with their lives just the same. They were part of a whole, and that whole had to be destroyed, and Revan was going to see to it that he killed every last one of them.

_**Shunk...BOOM!**_

He didn't flinch as the grenade exploded too far behind him to do any damage.

_**Shunk...BOOM!**_

The second grenade was short, and took out the lower half of an unsuspecting Dark Jedi, splattering the floor with a slick red liquid.

_**Shunk...**_

Revan didn't wait for this one to hit – he knew it was on target. Gathering the Force around him, he leapt the twenty meter distance between himself and the nearest Sith trooper, cutting him down before he had a chance to scream. His bronze blade protruded through another's skull, and he spun out of the way of blaster fire to disembowel a grenadier with his cyan blade just as the Dark Jedi were reaching his two companions. His lightsabers never stopped moving as he blocked blaster fire, dodging a vibroblade that was singing towards his head. Ducking the swipe, he sliced the trooper across the chest and impaled the next one before the first trooper's body hit the ground. He crushed the throat of the last grenadier through the Force and leapt back to where his companions were, striking down one of the Dark Jedi from behind. Juhani's enemy dropped, headless, and Jolee's slumped to the ground with a perfectly circular hole still smoking in his forehead, another dead body already on the floor next to him.

Juhani was bleeding from gashes on her arms and face where the frag grenade's shrapnel had hit her and Jolee took half a minute to heal her wounds and make sure everyone was okay before they moved on. Passing through a door, they were immediately beset by an ambush of heavy troopers and Dark Jedi. Jolee killed two troopers with Force lighting and Revan set another two on fire, letting them run around screaming for a few seconds before finally engulfing them in a lethal fireball. He could see that the sight of their comrades on fire and screaming wildly had put a dent in the morale of the troopers, and they hesitated as he charged at them. The first trooper brought his blaster rifle up in a vain attempt to block Revan's bronze blade as the former Sith Lord's weapon burned through the gun like it was paper, reaching the trooper's throat soon after. He slammed the second and third troopers together before hurtling them to the ceiling and smashing them into it, then letting them drop the hundred-plus feet to the ground.

As he turned, he saw a fresh wave of reinforcements come from behind his friends and cursed. Sprinting as fast as he could, Revan slammed his shoulder into the foremost Dark Jedi and bowling him over, knocking his lightsaber away and stabbing him through the chest as they fell. Jolee and Juhani took the other two Dark Jedi that had come as back up; Jolee smashed the Dark Jedi's lightsaber out of the way and lopped off his wrists, stabbing him in the gut and turning to block blaster fire from the troopers that had showed up. Juhani parried the Dark Jedi's series of rapid attacks with a flurry of her own, removing him of his left arm, left knee, and his head. Revan got to his feet in the middle of a circle of carnage: all of the troopers around him were dead, body parts were strewn across the floor and blood leaked from the less precise amputations. Revan was covered in some of this blood already and it served to give him the look of a psychotic killer. His eyes already burned with a wild fever fueled by anger and revenge and the blood only heightened his ill-omened appearance. They passed through the next door cautiously, ready for the wave of enemies when they came.

"Jolee, cover our backs!" Revan barked as he lobbed a few grenades at the stationary troopers, seeing them scatter and get blown through the air in a shower of blood and other body parts. He sent his cyan lightsaber into the fray and it cut through two troopers before it returned to his hand. He barely heard the hum of a lightsaber near his ear in time to jerk his head out of the deadly path of the energy weapon, his eyes narrowing as he assessed his enemy. He was a good-sized man, about Revan's height and build, and he circled the 'Jedi' like an animal who has cornered his prey. The former Sith Lord grinned as he felt the adrenaline rush of battle taking over his senses – even the Dark side took a back seat to the thrill he felt when it was just him and the enemy, nothing else, no Code and no restrictions. The Dark Jedi struck out quickly with his crimson blade, meeting Revan's cyan one. Shoving it away, he blocked Revan's right handed attack and kicked out at his left side, keeping the 'Jedi' from using his left weapon. Or so he thought. Revan switched his hold on the weapon, hilt-side up now, blade pointing to the floor, and brought the silvery cyan blade down across the man's leg, cutting diagonally through his calf and severing the Dark Jedi's spine with his bronze saber as the Sith fell stomach-side down to the floor. He turned his attention behind him and kicked a trooper in the face, crushing his helmet and sending him flying. His cyan blade blocked more blaster fire and deflected it back to the troopers who were shooting. Four of them fell to the ground with multiple holes sizzling in their armor and Revan pushed a sharp breath out of his nostrils as his head whipped around, his eyes searching for anyone still alive.

Juhani was helping an injured Jolee to his feet and Revan felt a small twinge of alarm at seeing his friend's grimace.

"What happened?" he asked as he helped Juhani right the old man.

"I got shot," was his short reply.

Revan rolled his eyes. "Where?"

"In the gut."

"Obviously not directly, or you'd be dead."

Jolee managed a grin. "Nothing gets by you. Left side."

Revan saw the singed cloth where the blaster bolt had passed through and was perplexed at the fact the troopers were using energy slugs. They were slower, easier to deflect, and didn't have a high kill rate. Then again, they hurt like hell, ignored shields, and ripped your insides to shreds. The tradeoff was almost worth it, and Revan realized that Jolee was lucky it _was_ a slug, or else the old Jedi would have been becoming one with the Force right about now.

The young man flipped out a small knife and dug the slug out of Jolee's side, dropping it on the deck. Each energy slug had a casing that was spent as the shell was fired, and then the tiny slug itself that kept the energy reaction going. They were considered old technology, but were still widely used, even by the most advanced army.

"It was a slug?" the old man asked as Revan healed the wound.

The 'Jedi' nodded. "Some of them are using slugs, and some aren't. You're lucky you got clipped by one that _was_ using a slug."

Once gathered, healed and as rested as possible, the three companions continued their push through the Star Forge. When they reached a junction, Jolee and Juhani kept going forward but Revan stopped.

"Where do you think you're going?" he called after them. They stopped and turned around, looking at him like he was stupid.

"We're clearing out the level..." Jolee offered upon seeing the seriousness in Revan's dark countenance.

He shook his head. "The Star Forge is symmetrical. You're basically going the way we just came. That passage will lead you back to another elevator, and you'll pointlessly fight Sith that could be avoided." He jerked his hand to the right, indicating the passage next to him. "We want to go this way. Trust me; I know what I'm talking about."

His friends took his advice and followed him down the branching corridor, passing through another door and thankfully only encountering a group of four troopers. Jolee killed three of them with Force lightning, Juhani cut down one, and Revan caused the last one's neck to snap, the three Jedi leaving more dead bodies in their wake.

"Go to the left," the young man suggested as they opened another massive door. "Or not," he said, retracting his statement as they were met with six Dark Jedi. "I know I've already said this today, but you're all going to die, you know that right?"

The Dark Jedi's response was to simultaneously ignite their lightsabers, some crimson, some violet, and attack Revan and his friends. Two of them stayed back, two of them went for Revan, and one went for Jolee and Juhani each, underestimating the former Sith Lord's companions. While his friends battled their enemies, Revan had his hands full with his own two adversaries. They were both very agile, forcing the 'Jedi' to keep himself fully alert at all times, as one of the Dark Jedi tried to stay behind him and out of sight. The one in front kept up a constant barrage of quick strikes but Revan made sure to only use his right hand to fend these off, leaving his left hand free to deal with the enemy at his back. The Dark Jedi behind him timed his attacks flawlessly with his partner in front, and Revan was forced to stay on the defensive for a long while, blocking strikes and letting them get comfortable. Suddenly, he committed to one side, kicking the back Dark Jedi in the face and sending him stumbling. He closed the distance between himself and the front enemy, pushing him backwards with each strike until finally slamming both of his sabers into the Dark Jedi's and forcing their weapons down to waist-level. Revan smashed his forehead into the Sith's nose and shoved the man's red lightsaber out of the way with his silvery cyan blade while thrusting his bronze saber through the Dark Jedi's chest. Without turning, he blocked the remaining Dark Jedi's recovery attack with his cyan lightsaber and forced their blades up, negating any possibility of the Sith stopping Revan's other lightsaber. He burned a long gash across the man's torso and looked up to see his friends waiting for him to finish.

"Getting slow in my old age," he said. "Sorry about the wait."

They had made it out to the largest part of Deck 2 and Revan's head snapped up to look behind them. His face turned to a grimace.

"More of them, coming down the elevator from the Command Deck. Damn! We won't be able to open that elevator. They'll lock it down as soon as they get off." He looked ahead once more, glancing behind him one last time before breaking into a sprint. "Come on, we have to get to that computer and override the elevator controls!"

The three Jedi made it to the far end of the deck, skidding to a halt in the computer room, panting heavily. Revan moved to the computer console and worked at a furious pace, his face a mask of desperate concentration.

"It'll stay open now as long as – hey...what the?" Revan's voice was thick with confusion and disbelief. Jolee and Juhani were about to come see what was wrong when he pushed something on the screen and a plasteel cylinder that was encased in a force cage glowed a bright white, and the force field dissipated.

Revan approached the cylinder slowly, his heart thudding hard, the sound deafening in his ears. He never thought he would see this again, and part of him felt like he was about to be reunited with an old friend, but part of him strained against the fact. That part of him argued that if he took it again, he would become what he had worked so hard to make up for. Pushing these thoughts out of his head as he opened the plasteel cylinder, he felt the familiar burning in his left side and right hand, but this was a twisted pleasure, a deep pain that felt good. Closing his fingers around the armor and fabric, Revan tugged firmly, dislodging the thing that had struck fear into the Republic's heart for his duration as a Sith.

Revan's lips parted as he pulled out the robes he had once worn as Darth Revan, the weight and feel of the armor a guilty comfort. He turned his head to look at Jolee, the old man's face unreadable and impassive. Removing the entire set of robes, he plunged his hand inside the plasteel cylinder for a second time and was perplexed as he came up empty. Where was his mask? A brief flash of the memory of the command deck of his ship exploding and ripping everything apart seared its way across his vision. His mask must've been blown away with the explosion of the power conduit next to him.

"Revan." The young man looked up, his eyes clinging to a faraway look. "You said there were more coming," Jolee reminded him.

Revan moved with surprising rapidity, stripping himself of Calo Nord's armor and leaving it in a heap on the floor, slipping deftly into his old robes with ease. It took him all of two short minutes to fully dress himself and reattach all of his weapons to his new suit of armor, pulling up his hood and shrouding his face in shadow. He kept his two lightsabers in his hands and exited the room without a word, his friends following soon after.

The man who left the room was not the same man who had entered. The donning of his old robes signified the change; Revan had embraced the darkness that was inside of him, no longer fighting its existence within. Whether he consciously knew this mattered not – the transformation had taken place without his deliberate consent and was irreversible.

The newest horde of enemies consisted solely of Dark Jedi and Apprentices, all of whom came to a dead halt when they saw Revan, clad in his Sith robes and wielding two powerful lightsabers. Jolee extended a hand to keep Juhani back, giving her a look that said this was Revan's battle.

The first enemy fell as Revan sucked the life out of him, taking the man's energy and transferring it to him. He moved then with a alacrity that neither Jolee nor Juhani had seen before, his black form a blur of shadow and his sabers hazes of silvery cyan and bronze. The two of them watched as the Dark Jedi reacted in turn, each of their movements a split second too late to be of any use, all of them dropping to the cold metal floor with incredulity fading in their dead eyes.

Still, Revan said nothing as he led them on, deeper into the Star Forge and closer to their final objective: Malak's defeat.


	19. Chapter 19

Hope that this update wasa little faster than last time. My life's about to suck hard, and I probably won't be able to write for a long time. I have to get surgery on my left shoulder and the doc said I'd be in a sling for at least a month, so I'll let you know when that's gonna happen so you don't think that I hate you and don't want to update.

Hope you like it...I like it. Most of it, at least. But I can change it if you don't, so tell me if you think something needs to be fixed.

Recommended Songs: Want by Disturbed and Whisper by Evanescence, both for the battle between Rev and Bas. Taking Me Alive by Dark New Day for the battle between Revan and Malak. CANNOT BELIEVE I FORGOT THIS: Chapter Four by Avenged Sevenfold.

* * *

"Revan? But..." 

"The Force is bringing us toward a confrontation with my old master," he told her, just as he had thought to himself earlier. "The Star Forge has drawn our enemies together so they may all die in a single, glorious day!" Malak paused, looking down at Bastila. "You must kill Revan to prove yourself worthy of being my apprentice, Bastila. You must finish what began in the Rakatan Temple."

"Y-yes, Lord Malak," Bastila replied, her voice quavering.

Malak's eyes took on an almost-sympathetic air. "I sense your fear, Bastila. But it is unfounded. The power of the Star Forge will feed the Dark side within you. It will give you the strength you need to defeat my old master," he reassured her. "Stay here and guard the command center while you use your Battle Meditation against the Republic fleet. Revan will find you here in due time. It is inevitable."

"Of course master. I will not fail you again," Bastila replied as Malak left the room; she sunk into the lotus position and a faint blue hue flickered briefly around her as she settled into a deep state of concentration to use her Battle Meditation, though this time against her friends. Malak watched from behind a pane of glass in another room.

"Perhaps you will triumph, Bastila. But even if you fail, it will give me the time I need to complete my preparations of the station's defenses." His eyes lit up with wicked satisfaction. "And then we shall see if Revan can stand against the full fury of the Star Forge!"

His terrible laugh filled the air as he retreated to another part of the space station to finish his arrangements for his old master's impending arrival.

- - -

The former Dark Lord of the Sith growled as his lightsabers bit through another Dark Jedi's flesh, one saber protruding from the enemy's gut and the other from his neck. Using his foot, he pushed the body away as it fell and looked to either side of him slowly, as if daring any more enemies to foolishly present themselves to his blades. None came and Revan stood up straight, attaching his lightsabers back to his belt and pushing back the hood from his face, letting it pool on his shoulders and around his neck.

"We should rest," he suggested as he leaned with his back against a wall.

"How are you doing?" Jolee asked. The young man sighed and rubbed the stubble that was growing on his jaw, feeling the physical and emotional fatigue beginning to set in.

"I can make it," was his reply.

"I know you can handle all of this, but I meant since we got on the Star Forge. How are you doing?"

Revan glanced up at the old man. "Oh. That. I'm not going to kill Malak and take back the Sith Empire if that's what you're worried about. I already said I didn't want that."

"I know you won't but I just wanted to see how you felt. The Dark side is still dangerous, even for you," Jolee explained.

Revan smiled bitterly and ran a gloved hand through his sweat-slicked hair. "Trust me; I know. You really want to know what it feels like? To give in like this?"

Jolee nodded and Juhani looked interested as well. He could tell that she was aware of the fact that he was much more immersed in the Dark side than she had ever been.

"I feel emotions much more strongly. The anger, the hatred, the pain...all of it. It makes me stronger in return, but it makes me more irrational as well. But the Dark side itself feels like power...it's intoxicating, it pounds through you, pushing you past the limits you thought you had. If one were to completely give themselves to the Dark side, they would not be able to come back. If everything good were to die inside of a person then they would be lost. I can tell you that much," Revan said. "The only reason I can keep control of myself is the fact that I haven't become totally dead inside. Once that were to happen..." he shook his head. "But you have to understand that all of this is tempered by the fact that I wasn't 'evil' beforehand – I was a good person for all of the months before this. I was a 'Light side' Jedi. And I don't enjoy watching the suffering of good people; I want to help do something about it." He paused again and thought, finally coming to a conclusion. "The Dark side is going to be different for everyone. No one is the same and your personality and who you are effects how the Dark side will change you. I can't explain it any better than that."

"Your view carries more wisdom with it that most Masters' views have," Jolee pointed out.

Revan's bitter smile returned as he put his hood back up to obscure his face. "Most Masters have never been near death, with no way to save themselves and no one to help them, save the Dark side. My hand was forced, though the circumstances were my fault. But I didn't want to die."

The trio passed through the sixth door of the level, were met immediately with a seventh and continued past that one as well, only to stop short as Revan's footsteps halted abruptly. His companions noticed the figure sitting on the ground seconds after he did and silently backed away.

- - -

Bastila felt his presence approaching long before he made it inside the room. The darkness swirling around him was a thrill to her more sinister side, but the side of her that remained unchanged and struggled constantly against its restraints to get out cringed at his new aura. She felt another knot forming in her stomach at the knowledge that he was close and that their meeting again was unavoidable. Unbeknownst to Malak, Revan had had a profound affect on her at the Rakatan Temple, more so than even she had realized at first. But in the hours that followed that confrontation, as she flew back to the Star Forge, as she healed her broken ribs, as she received new orders from Malak, his words kept coming back to her relentlessly.

"_I was there for you for how many months, and you stab me in the back like this? The power you hunger for will desert you, Bastila, just like it deserted me!"_

His accusation had stung even her darker side, knowing that he spoke the truth about her betrayal of him and the betrayal she would eventually face when her power left her. The good side of her was in agony at hurting Revan like this and such was the strength of this agony that it was causing her to be torn in two. Ever since the Rakatan Temple, Malak's hold on her had been slipping and her old self had continued to fight back, accelerating his loss of control over her and making her question her new beliefs and her loyalty to Malak. She saw again what Revan's followers had seen: a man whose words you wanted to believe simply because he spoke them with such passion and confidence, a man whose attitude told you that he would never do anything to wrong you, that he would work for your good, and a man who was deeply and personally concerned with everyone he knew. Revan's words made her feel as if he was trying to keep her from getting hurt, like he was trying to bring her back so he could protect her and keep her safe.

And the more she thought about it, the more she wanted it. The more she compared Revan to Malak, the more she questioned Malak's motives. Earlier, Malak had mistaken her fear to be fear of Revan himself, but her fear had really been because she knew that Revan was breaking down all the walls she had thrown up to save herself after her fall. And she didn't know if she could stand fighting him again, knowing that he wanted her back...

_**Shunk...whoosh.**_

Bastila broke her concentration on her Battle Meditation and looked up, seeing Revan, Jolee and Juhani standing there just inside the doorway. She stood slowly and picked her lightsaber from the ground but did not activate it, walking towards Revan in an unhurried manner. When she had gotten as close as she wanted, Bastila sent Jolee and Juhani flying backwards with a rough push of Force, slamming the door that they had just come through shut, sealing only herself and the former Dark Lord within the room. Content with their situation, she turned her full attention to the man standing ten feet in front of her.

"Revan – I knew you would come for me," Bastila said in a tone the closest to normal Revan had heard in a long time but with a tiny trickle of fear and uncertainty pervading throughout her words.

"I don't take rejection very well. I'm persistent," he responded, watching her face intently from beneath his hood.

She raised a thin, dark eyebrow. "Is that so? Well you're wasting your time," she said. "I have seen the Jedi for what they really are: weak and afraid. The Sith are the true Masters of the Force. You have forgotten that lesson, Revan, and now you must pay the price. Here on the Star Forge the power of the Dark side is the strongest." She ignited her double-bladed crimson lightsaber and dropped into a combative stance. "This time you will not defeat me!"

Revan ignited only his bronze blade and slowly brought it up above his shoulders, parallel to the floor with the tip pointing at Bastila. Her eyes went wide as he did this, the position, his armor, and the setting all too familiar. She was immediately reminded that the only reason this man was here now was because she had saved his life when everyone else had tried to kill him; she had given him a second chance when no one else would.

Growling in frustration at the realization of what he was doing, Bastila attacked him ferociously with everything she had and surprising him somewhat. He avoided hitting her with his lightsaber whenever the opportunity presented itself and opted instead to use hand-to-hand combat. She felt his forearms, fists, knees and feet connect with an area of her body every time he parried one of her attacks. Every time he had the chance to strike her down, he didn't. The final blow of their first sparring match came when Revan slammed her lightsaber down and backhanded her across the face, nearly knocking her off her feet. She stumbled backwards and buffeted him with a gust of Force to keep him where he was while she caught her breath.

"I can see now why Malak followed you," she said. "Even though you are only a shell of your former self, you are still a formidable opponent. I can't even imagine the power you must have wielded when you were the Dark Lord." Bastila's tone became deprecating. "You were a fool to give it all up and follow the light."

She saw Revan twitch at her statement and heard his voice growl out from behind the shadow that obscured most of his face underneath the hood he wore.

"I _don't_," he snarled.

Bastila shrugged and resumed speaking. "The Dark side has made me stronger than I ever was before," she said with force. "I have a greater command of the Force than all but the most powerful Jedi Masters."

"I should be a Master then," Revan retorted. "You can't beat me, Bastila, even here on the Star Forge. And you might want to watch what you say. It might come back to bite you in the ass – just look at me."

Bastila glared at him and wiped away the small trickle of blood that leaked from a cut on her temple. "Some of us aren't as blind and foolish as others," she shot back. "As Malak teaches me the greatest secrets of the Sith, I will unlock more of my potential. Eventually there will be no limit to what I can accomplish through the Force!"

Revan snorted and began to pace, his cape swirling behind him like black smoke. "Malak will never let you get that powerful. He'll kill you first."

Bastila returned the snort and spoke condescendingly to her bond-mate. "Have you forgotten the ways of the Sith already, Revan? Eventually I will challenge my Master. If I am worthy, he will die by my hand and I will become the new Sith Master."

The lights flickered for a moment before a massive burst of lightning poured into Bastila, the Star Forge invigorating her with Dark side energies. She charged at him with a yell, hoping to catch him off guard but to no avail. Revan blocked her attack and parried with a swift punch to the gut causing her to drop to her knees, gasping and wheezing for air. He brought both fists down on her back – his lightsaber back on his belt – and smashed her to the ground. As she rolled over onto her back to get away, she caught a glimpse of his face, pained with having to physically hurt her like this and the good side of her leapt up again, clawing against its dark restraints. Bastila got up shakily, his blows still smarting, pointing her saber in his direction but for no real reason. He didn't make any move to attack her again, instead letting her get to her feet and regain her breath for the second time. She saw the way his shoulders slumped slightly and the slower way in which he moved and realized that he was very tired.

"You are growing weary," she said as she reached out through their bond and found that it was indeed true. "I can feel it."

She received silence in reply as he noticed that her tone was no longer filled with contempt and pleasure at belittling him.

"What's going on in your mind, Revan? What is that has kept you going after all of this?" Bastila asked, truly curious as to why he continued to fight.

"I want to see Malak in a pool of his own cooling blood," Revan answered darkly. "I want him dead so that I can stop having to pretend to be a Jedi. I want you to realize that all Malak has done is use you to get me here, and that he only wants you for your Battle Meditation. I want you to realize that this isn't where you belong."

Her eyebrows rose. "Oh? And where do I belong?"

She could tell he was getting frustrated – the anger was beginning to ripple off of him in nearly palpable waves. "You belong with me...with all of our friends, not here with Malak."

"You spout the words of blind fool!" she snapped, attacking him once more but with more tact this time. He completely avoided her first swipe, skillfully sidestepping at the last moment and igniting his bronze blade once again. She felt him plant his foot on her back and shove, sending her further than she intended and Bastila spun, angry at how he was toying with her. Their lightsabers met in brilliant clashes, Revan never giving any ground or pushing back. He let her exhaust herself in her futile effort to kill him while he exerted as little energy as possible, trying to conserve it and regain some before his duel with Malak. She tried to strike him again and he pushed her lightsaber to the side, grabbing her left arm with his right hand and kicking the lightsaber out of her hand at the same time, getting behind her and twisting her arm painfully backwards while he brought his lightsaber in the front and held it as close to her waist as he dared. Moving his mouth close to her ear so she could hear his breathing, he spoke softly but firmly:

"I win."

Bastila was again reminded of another time, in this instance their wrestling match after her father's death and the way he had pinned her against the bed, their bodies pressed together and his mouth inches from hers. She let her head drop to her chest some and her voice was quiet, defeated.

"Please...for the sake of what we had, kill me quickly."

He tensed and she thought he was going to do it, but soon realized that he was reacting to her words. "I won't kill you, Bastila. I can't."

"You must," she pressed. "I am the apprentice to the Dark Lord...I can't come back to the Jedi."

"I _was_ the Dark Lord," Revan argued. "I came back. I know that this isn't what you want."

"They will never forgive me, Revan. They still haven't forgiven you! They only allowed you back because of Malak. I am beaten either way. Please, just end my life."

"Bastila listen to me. They may not forgive you, but you _can_ make up for what you've done."

She was silent for a long time, mulling over his words and debating the truth in them. He was right, she could make up for her actions, but what good would that do her if the Jedi Council didn't forgive her? She would be exiled. It was death in another fashion. And if she refused to right her wrongs...what would Revan do? He said he couldn't kill her so how would he deal with her? She cursed the Dark side for its lure and the way it slowly drew her in, even as she thought she was resisting its call. And what good would it do to stay loyal to Malak? If Revan killed him, she would have no master and would be, for all intents and purposes, Revan's charge. But if Malak lived, surely he would never trust her with anything again after she had failed to kill Revan twice.

Once again, the memory of a dying Revan on the bridge of his ship filtered into her mind. Why had she preserved his life that day? What was it that she had seen in his young and handsome face that told her he wasn't who the Jedi said he was? Did Revan see that same ineffable thing in her? She had saved him, and now he was trying to do the same for her. Didn't she at least owe it to him to try, even if she didn't believe he could help her? And what about him? She could tell he had re-embraced his Dark side...

Bastila forced herself to stop the hundreds of questions that were bombarding her and condensed her situation into two options: One, she could stay with Malak and be guaranteed death under the tenants of the Sith, or two, she could listen to the man who had been with her for the last few months, protecting her and watching out for her and who had never lied to her, and believe what he said.

When she stopped to look at it like that, the decision was obvious. But her doubts still lingered...

"But how can I make up for my actions? I can't return to the Light just because you say I can! It's not that simple!"

"Anyone can make up for their wrongs, Bastila. Answer me this: have you decimated nearly an entire race?"

Her brows furrowed in confusion at his seemingly pointless question. "No, I haven't."

"No? Then how about an entire planet?"

She shook her head.

"Still no? Well then surely you must've killed at least a hundred people by now."

She was silent.

"Have you?" he pressed.

"No," she snapped.

"Have you murdered someone in cold blood?"

"No! I haven't done any of that!"

"Then you're a much better person than I am," he finished quietly. "You've betrayed the Republic. You've betrayed your friends. You've betrayed me. The Republic will forgive you in time. Your friends already forgive you. I forgave you long ago." He sighed. "I want you back, Bastila. People make mistakes; that's life. I've made more already than you probably ever will. You forgave me when no one else did. You gave me a second chance on that bridge. I have to give you the same."

The feeling of his warm breath washing over her ear and the sound of his breathing enveloped her senses as he fell silent again, waiting for her response.

"But...what can I do?" she asked.

"Help me kill Malak and destroy the Star Forge," was his immediate answer.

"Yes I...I could join your battle against the Dark Lord. That alone would not make up for everything I have done, but it would be a step in the right direction," she said, mostly to convince herself of the statement's authenticity. Doubt attacked her again, however, and she regressed. "But how would you be able to trust me? How do you know I wouldn't turn on you when you faced Darth Malak? How do you know the Dark side wouldn't make me betray you again?" she asked, almost hoping he couldn't answer.

Revan released his hold on her and pressed the hilt of his activated blade into her hand. He turned her around and pushed the hood back from his face so that she could see his eyes.

"I trust you enough to leave myself open to your attack," he said, dropping to his knees and staring up at her, his arms hanging limply at his sides. Bastila brought his lightsaber around and held it close to his chest, the tip four inches from his breastplate.

"You play a dangerous game," she spoke, staring down into his beautiful, arcane green eyes. "Are you certain you wish to take this risk? I could end your life and gain Malak's favor with a single stroke of your lightsaber."

"You won't, Bastila," he said, his voice soft and full of conviction. "Because I love you and I have faith in you."

He watched as the shadow slipped from her eyes to be replaced with sadness, and for a moment, he thought she might kill him.

"You are brave...and some would say foolish," she replied, her voice giving away nothing. "But you are also right. The Dark side has not wholly consumed me." The sadness disappeared and relief flooded her face as she lowered his lightsaber and deactivated it. "I cannot raise my blade against you."

A weight seemed to slip from his shoulders as he stood to his feet, feeling his own torrent of relief at knowing he had her back.

"You will go on to defeat Malak, of this I have little doubt," she said as he rose. "You will have gone from being the Sith Lord, himself, to the savior of our galaxy." She lifted her icy blue-grey eyes to stare into his dark and mysterious green ones, seeing the hope that filled them as he looked down at her. "And..." she hesitated, "you said that you loved me." Bastila handed him back his lightsaber and stared at their clasped hands for a while before letting go and looking back into his eyes. He nodded, fearing that speaking would ruin everything.

"This may not be the best time to say it but..." she hesitated again, searching his eyes and finding the love that he professed to have for her, giving her strength. "I love you too," she finally admitted. "With all my heart."

"You're not afraid to love anymore?" he asked, praying that she wasn't playing with him.

Bastila's response wasn't immediate, but it was given with a sincerity that he had never heard before.

"After this? No, nothing could make me feel safer than to be loved by you."

Revan couldn't speak right away; the emotions crashing over him were too great. The joy at hearing her finally say those words, the release that followed at knowing he didn't have to keep it inside anymore, and the deep gratitude and respect towards her for allowing herself to love him, even though it went against everything she had been brought up to believe. He quickly removed his gloves and discarded them on the floor, bringing his strong hands up to cradle her face as he stared deeply into her eyes, and for a little while, he let go of the darkness that had allowed him to get this far.

He could see that there was still uncertainty there, but that she wanted to trust him and was willing to risk getting hurt to do so. He promised himself that he would never abandon her or cause her pain in any way, and told her so through their bond. She smiled and brought a hand up to rest on one of his, opening her mouth to say something to him. The words never made it out to be heard.

Revan lowered his mouth to hers, pressing their lips together and kissing her passionately. The shock that came from her end of the bond made him chuckle and he rubbed the pads of his thumbs lightly against her cheeks. He felt her hands on the back of his neck pulling him down and he deepened the kiss, drawing her as close as he could with his armor. One of his hands moved to the small of her back and pressed her waist to his, feeling her even through the body armor he was in. Their lips parted for the briefest of moments so they could catch their breath before meeting again, this time with more force than before and no less passion. He felt her mouth open against his and Revan slipped his tongue in for a moment, just to surprise her again.

He broke away from this second kiss, knowing that there was no way he could control himself if this continued. Bastila seemed to be in the same state he was and he couldn't help but smiling as he looked down at her. Her eyes were closed as she rested her hands on his armored chest, her lips were parted and she was slightly flushed. When her icy blue-grey orbs met his green ones, he felt desire coiling painfully in his gut at the fire that burned behind them, letting him know that she felt the same way.

"You should go," Bastila said softly, and he knew that she was right. "Malak awaits. This isn't over yet...for any of us. I should stay here though," she added. "If we face Malak, I am afraid his dark presence will overwhelm me. It would not be wise to expose myself to such temptation."

Revan frowned. "I want you by my side when I face him," he persisted even though he knew she couldn't come.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but the risk is too great. I am not wholly free of the Dark side's shadow. Not yet. But you are more than a match for the Dark Lord – I understand that now. No," she said. "I will stay here and use my Battle Meditation to aid the Republic fleet. I am their only hope of destroying the Star Forge and ending the Sith menace." Bastila looked down for a moment, then back up at him. "You must go and face Malak, but you have to hurry. Once I turn the battle in the Republic's favor we won't have much time to escape the Star Forge before it is destroyed."

Revan nodded in assent, seeing that her reasoning was accurate. He bent down and retrieved his gloves, slipping them back onto his hands and securing them into his armored gauntlets. Turning back to Bastila, he kissed her one last time – a short, almost forceful kiss – and stepped back, putting his hood up and hiding his face once more.

"Good luck, my love...and may the Force be with you."

His nod was short, and his cape swirled around his feet as he spun and strode off to find and kill Malak. Bastila watched him go with mixed feelings. She realized now that she loved him more than she had even admitted to herself and Bastila didn't want to have to let him go so quickly. She was confident he would slay Malak, but she also knew that her former master was not above using tricks to defeat his opponents. Remembering that Jolee and Juhani were outside the door, she unlocked it and watched them rush in, lightsabers drawn and ready to defend themselves if she were to attack. Bastila couldn't help a smile. If only they had seen what had just happened between herself and Revan...

"I'm not going to kill you. Put your weapons away," she called, sitting down again to prepare for using her Battle Meditation.

"Did Revan...?" Jolee trailed, looking slightly confused.

"Revan has gone to kill Malak. I suspect it will be some time before he returns."

"Did you...?"

"Come back? Yes. Revan showed me that I could still atone for my wrongs. And he showed me that love is something that can save you, not condemn you like the Jedi say," Bastila mused.

Jolee's grin was wide as he realized what Revan had done. "That kid is something else. If he kills Malak, his resume will have become quite impressive: youngest General ever to single-handedly win a war, Dark Lord of the Sith, savior of the galaxy, and now ladies' man. If he got you, I'm pretty sure he could get anyone he wants."

Jolee felt a headache pound painfully in the back of his head and looked at Bastila, only to find that she was already deep in concentration, using her Battle Meditation to aid the Republic.

"Sneaky. Real sneaky, kid."

She smiled and Jolee shook his head. Going over to where Juhani was, he sat down to wait, hoping the two young lovers could save the Republic.

- - -

Revan peered curiously at the large structures to his right and left as he walked down a massive but relatively short corridor that he hoped led directly to Malak. As he neared the end, he found that he didn't have to hope – his old friend and apprentice was standing in-between doorways, the first door open and the second to another room shut. Two Jedi were there as well and Revan wondered how they had gotten there. He had little time to ponder this, as Malak ignited his single-bladed lightsaber and twirled it with years of practiced skill and precision. He never used it, however, opting instead to choke one of the Jedi and fry the other one with Force lighting. Malak seemed to sense Revan's presence for the first time and turned, his sunken yellow-grey eyes yielding only a fraction of the surprise he felt at seeing his old master clad in the armor he had worn as Dark Lord.

"Ah, Revan. You have made it this far, and I commend you. I'm going to enjoy crushing the Republic after your death," he taunted in his rough mechanical voice.

"This ends with _your_ death, Malak," Revan growled, igniting both of his lightsabers. Malak only laughed at Revan's words.

"Such words lead to the Dark side, my old master. But this is not worth my time. You are an insignificant speck beneath my notice! I will let the power of the Star Forge destroy you, Revan!" Malak spat, slamming the door shut and locking it. Revan cursed, seeing that the door was much too thick to burn the locking mechanism out with his lightsabers. A loud explosion behind him demanded his attention and he turned, surprised to see a droid scuttling towards him. Three more explosions later, four droids were closing in on him and he was staring in disbelief. The pillars were miniature droid factories! Revan threw himself at the droids, killing them with relative ease, but they never stopped coming. For each one he killed, another sprang up to take its place and he was growing exhausted much too quickly. He couldn't afford to continue like this; Malak was too strong of an opponent to go into battle bone-weary and expect to win. Looking around he spotted computer consoles next to each mini factory and a plasteel cylinder beside each one of those. Destroying a droid with lightning, he pushed the rest back and ran for the nearest console. Logging on quickly he saw that he could destroy the factory if he had enough spikes. Knowing that he had more than enough due to the fact that he was proficient in hacking on his own, Revan immediately pulled the required number out and hooked them into the computer, blowing the first factory to shreds seconds later. Avoiding the droids as best he could, Revan sprinted around the entire room destroying each factory as he came to it and proceeding to the next one. When all of the factories were in smoking heaps, he concentrated on destroying the remaining droids. There were four, and he electrocuted two and plunged his lightsabers deep into the other two's bellies, frying their circuitry.

Sinking to the floor, Revan sat with his feet resting on the ground, knees high enough to prop his forearms up parallel to the floor. Letting his chin fall to his chest, he drew heavily upon the Dark side of the Force to give him the strength he needed to keep himself alert and battle-ready, using the Star Forge's natural conductivity of the Dark side to make it easier. The minutes crawled by and he rose to his feet when he felt rested enough to face his former friend. The door that had previously been locked now opened without protest, as did the second, and Revan stepped forward onto the metal gangway that stretched out to the viewing platform that Malak stood on, his broad back to the 'Jedi.' He only half-turned to face Revan as his old master approached.

"Well done, Revan. I was certain the defenses of the Star Forge would destroy you, but I see there is more of your old self in you than I expected. You are stronger than I thought; stronger than you ever were during your reign as Dark Lord. I did not think that possible."

Revan scowled beneath his hood. "This is your last chance, Malak," he growled. "Surrender."

Revan knew that if Malak could've smiled, he would have done so with despicable malice. "No, Revan, this time our confrontation can only end in death...yours or mine. Once again we shall face each other in single combat," he paused, turning fully now to face Revan and igniting his crimson blade, "and the victor will decide the fate of the galaxy!"

Revan ignited both his bronze blade and his silvery cyan one, smiling darkly from beneath the shadow that obscured much of his features. "I wouldn't call our last confrontation combat, Malak. More like your cowardly attempt to assassinate me when I had no chance of fighting back."

"Say what you will Revan, but I saw an opportunity and seized it. I did not foresee Bastila surviving the blast to save your pathetic life," the Dark Lord replied. "Nor did I think the Jedi would try and use your broken mind to lead them back to the Star Forge. For pacifistic cowards, they chanced upon an ingenious plan, didn't they? Tell me, did you enjoy being their puppet?"

"No more than you enjoyed being my bitch, I'm sure," Revan shot back, circling Malak now, a feral grin visible underneath his hood, the grin of a demon who has once again found its prey. The young man's perceptive gaze took in the number of bodies floating in suspended animation at various points around the viewing platform. Malak would no doubt use them to replenish his energy if near death, of that, Revan was sure. He would use them too, if the need called for it, to even the playing field.

They both seemed to lunge at each other at the same instant, their blades clashing with horrible screeches and luminous flashes, their movements too fast for the normal eye to follow, only visible because of the vibrant energy blades they possessed. Neither of them used the Force, both resorting to pure skill and strength to try and best the other; the two men seemed to be even for a long while, neither of them scoring a hit. Their weapons met one last time before both spun away, their weapons at the ready, breathing heavily and savoring the adrenaline rush that accompanied battle.

"You always were good with a lightsaber," Revan said as he shook the sweat from his eyes.

"You've improved," Malak admitted, "but so have I. You and I were always nearly equal. Now it seems we've finally reached a common plateau."

Revan's deep, booming laughter filled the room and echoed around the metal walls, sending a chill down Malak's spine. "I'm just getting warmed up, my friend. You leave your left side open every now and then. You might want to watch that."

Malak's eyes narrowed as he crouched just a little bit lower, taking his old master's advice. He knew that Revan was telling the truth, and the way in which he had spoken with such nonchalance unsettled Malak. The two clashed again, both striking high, their lightsabers locked above their heads. Revan lashed out with a hard kick to Malak's ribs and the taller man stumbled backwards, frantically blocking Revan's following lightsaber attacks as he regained his balance. Malak smacked one of Revan's sabers out of the way and slammed his fist into his friend's face, the only place where he was unarmored. Revan turned away as the blow hit, Malak's fist catching his temple and causing stars to explode in his vision. He spun with the force of the blow, using that momentum to make his next attack more powerful. As he spun around, he brought both of his lightsabers around and smashed them as hard as he could against Malak's single blade, pushing it down. Revan continued to use his inertia, headbutting Malak viciously on the nose and hearing the crack of it breaking as he felt the heel of Malak's palm connect with his chin and snap his head back. Both men lurched backwards simultaneously with equal force, Revan regaining his footing first and watching Malak regain his. The two of them had maneuvered right next to one of the sentients floating in suspended animation and Revan watched Malak's eyes lock onto the human.

"You see this Jedi, Revan? You might recognize him; he was with one of the strike teams that boarded the Star Forge with you. For all intents and purposes, dead, except for one thing: I have not let him become one with the Force," the Dark Lord explained. He extended a hand and a purple coil of energy shot from the Jedi to his hand, transferring the man's life force to Malak. The taller man heard Revan chuckle and was about to demand to know what was humorous when Revan's figure moved into his line of vision, standing next to another Jedi a few meters away.

"You're not the only one who can do that," he said as the same beam of purple shot from the Jedi to his body. "You won't get rid of me that easily. Come on man! Show me something I haven't seen!"

Malak snarled as he launched himself at his old master, attacking furiously, his rage increasing as he watched Revan block each attack seemingly effortlessly.

"Damn you!" he yelled. "You should have died years ago! My plan was perfect! How in the hell did you survive?"

"Mercy is something you know little about, my friend, and you will not learn it this day," Revan grunted back, blocking another one of Malak's attacks and parrying, catching the Dark Lord on the shoulder and searing away skin and muscle. Malak roared as Revan's lightsaber bit into his flesh, lashing out with his own and shoving it into his old master's side. The blade met resistance for a long while, but finally cracked through the cortosis armor that Revan wore and tore into his side, causing him to cry out as well and fall to the ground in an effort to get away from the lethal attack. Malak's foot slammed into the side of his head and sent him rolling away, his body coming to a halt at the feet of another dead-but-alive Jedi. Revan sucked the life force out of him as he struggled to his feet, seeing Malak do the same, clutching his shoulder as he did so.

"Four more lives, Malak. Then you die," Revan called, panting in between words. The exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him, even as he gained new energy from each Jedi he 'freed.'

"The same for you, Revan," Malak replied. "We shall see who dies first."

"Where did I go wrong?" Revan asked as they both paused again to regain their stamina. "I never meant for this to happen. I wanted to make the Republic stronger...not have it destroyed."

Malak's eyes showed confusion. "You what? You left as a hero and came back at the head of a massive Sith fleet, Revan! You went from saving the Republic to decimating it."

"I never wanted to rule it you fool!" he snapped. "I saw a greater threat! I wanted to rebuild the Republic from the ground up and make it able to withstand the next invasion! Why do you think I left military strong points intact? It wasn't just for us! I left the complete infrastructure of the Republic untouched to speed up the recovery after I defeated them!"

Malak looked like he was truly hearing this for the first time. "I didn't know...I thought you were simply trying to conquer the Republic and were leaving the military points intact to help yourself. But then again, there were many things you didn't tell me, Revan. Or anyone else, for that matter. A true leader is completely honest with his followers. You failed us in that."

Revan opened his mouth to reply but let it hang open as the truth of Malak's last words hit him. He _had_ failed in that respect...and it had nearly cost him his life and it had cost him his vision. He cursed to himself for this oversight and vowed to never let his own ambition get in the way and blind him again. Malak was at his throat once more, pushing relentlessly at Revan's defenses to try and land a hit in the exposed hole of his armor, leaving the shorter man little room to strike back. He felt the heat of Malak's blade sear his armor a few times and knew that it could've been his flesh if not for the cortosis weave that strengthened the armor against lightsabers and any other blade with an energy component. Revan suddenly pushed Malak's weapon away with both of his, overestimating his former apprentice's strength and overcompensating, pushing farther than he intended and leaving himself open for attack. Malak's elbow crashed into the back of his head and Revan crumbled to the floor, kicking out and catching Malak at the knees, sending him to the metal grating as well. Malak lunged at Revan who caught him used Malak's momentum to kick him over his head, causing him to fly through the air and slam into the ramp that led to the upper level of the viewing platform. The Dark Lord groaned as he slid down, picking himself up shakily and immediately draining the life from the nearest Jedi. Revan did the same and the two stared each other down; or, more correctly, Malak stared deep into the shadow that was Revan's face.

"Three," he grunted, watching his old master warily.

Revan nodded, tightening his grip on his lightsabers and feeling his muscles flex in anticipation. They were getting down to the wire now, only three more mishaps between themselves and the eternal sleep known as death. Revan wondered if his soul would go on the live in endless torment like Ajunta Pall's had done for so long, or if he would be forgiven and allowed to rest in peace. He thought of Bastila and rid his mind of any remnants of death. He would not the be the one to perish – not today.

"What's the matter, Revan? Getting tired?"

"Dun Moch won't work on me, Malak. You of all people should know that!" he snapped, Force leaping to where his old apprentice was and shoulder-slamming him backwards into the ramp to the upper level of the viewing platform again. Malak grunted as Revan's shoulder impacted with his gut and his back was crushed into the metal bar behind him. Grabbing Revan by the sides, he drove his knee into the groin area of the armor. He heard Revan moan and knew that he had landed at least a glancing blow as his friend back up, keeping his lightsabers in front to ward off any sudden attack.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered. "I owe you more than one kick in the balls."

"Hit me then," Malak shot back. Revan did, moving with a speed augmented by the Force. Malak foresaw this, however, and was able to augment his speed just quickly enough to be able to block Revan's lightsabers but not to avoid the kick to his crotch – a kick that actually lifted him up onto the ramp behind him and caused a blinding pain to sear through his loins. He felt Revan's lightsaber bite deeply into his calf and kicked back with his free leg, catching Revan in the eye and getting him away just long enough for Malak to roll away and suck the life from yet another Jedi, healing the cracked ribs from Revan's shoulder slam, the severed calf, the crushed vertebrae and the foot-plant to his groin. Malak heard a loud crack and Revan grunted loudly, drawing life force from a Jedi near himself as well. He cradled his shoulder for a few seconds before straightening.

"I'll keep it even," he said as he came slowly up the ramp. "You take one, I take one."

"You didn't really need that Jedi," Malak said, more of a statement than a question.

Revan shook his head as he continued to advance. "I could've healed myself, but I figure I'll save that for when there's no more free energy left. Oh, one more Jedi left, by the way." He extended a hand that was closed around a lightsaber and two snaking coils of lightning bolts shot out from it and entered the remaining two Jedi's bodies, releasing them from their horrible state of limbo. "Or not," he said with finality.

Malak's eyes narrowed as he watched his former master, knowing that Revan meant to end this battle once and for all. Tightening his grip on his lightsaber hilt with both hands, he felt an unfamiliar trickle of fear crawling its way up his spine and for the first time, wondered if he could come out the victor. He caught a glimpse of Revan's malevolent grin and took a single step back to steady himself and ensure his footing.

"I can sense your fear, Malak..." Revan taunted, his voice terrible and haunting.

"Only a fool isn't afraid when faced with his own death," Malak replied, though his voice sounded unconvincing, even to himself. Revan leapt at him, hacking away with such ferocity that Malak was forced backwards and on the defensive until he could push Revan back some. Using the Force to do so, he flung Revan off the upper gangway and all the way across the large room to slam into the door that the former Dark Lord of the Sith had entered through. Revan picked himself up slowly and stood on his two feet unsteadily, feeling a sharp pain in his back and a gradually spreading numbness in his pelvis and upper legs. He called upon the Force to heal himself and was relieved to feel the numbness leave his body and the pain recede to a bearable level. Malak had descended the ramp and was standing in the center of the room, waiting for him to rejoin the battle; Revan obliged and walked to where Malak was, stopping one and a half meters away – well within Malak's reach. The Dark Lord of the Sith and the redeemed fallen Jedi met in what both knew was going to be the final duel of their battle, both attacking, blocking, parrying and fighting with all of their remaining energy and skill. Malak struck high and was blocked, Revan tried to hit him on the side and met with nothing but air, Malak's lightsaber screeched against Revan's as he tried to decapitate his old master – the battle raged on for what seemed like an endless amount of time to the two combatants. Finally, Malak saw and opening and pounced on it. He parried Revan's attack and slashed his blade across Revan's hand, knocking his cyan lightsaber away and rendering his left hand useless it. He thrust his crimson blade back into the hole that exposed Revan's side to his lightsaber and drove it all the way through, hearing Revan's snarl of pain. The shorter man brought his injured left hand up and grabbed the back of Malak's neck, shoving his bronze lightsaber into the man's gut and dragging him closer as the energy blade passed through his entire torso.

They both stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity, Revan's bronze blade protruding from Malak's back, and the Dark Lord's red saber thrust completely through Revan's left side. Revan's breath hissed out in agony as he staggered backwards, falling, his left hand clutching at his side and the blood that leaked out, pulling his lightsaber free from Malak's abdomen as he did so. Malak dropped to his knees, feeling the numbness spreading from his wound knowing that it was fatal, seeing the shadows creep in on the edges of his vision. He brought a hand up and felt a warm, slick liquid on his stomach.

"Im...impossible," he said, unable to believe that it was finally over. "I...I am the Dark Lord of the Sith. I cannot be beaten."

"This is...the way of the Dark side, Malak. All...things end in death," Revan replied, forcing the words out through the pain.

"Still...still spouting the wisdom of the Jedi, I see. Maybe there is more truth in their code than I ever believed. I...I cannot help but wonder, Revan. What would have happened if our positions had been reversed? What if fate had decreed I would be captured by the Jedi? Could I have returned to the Light, as you did? If you had not led me down the dark path in the first place, what destiny would I have found?"

"I am no servant of the Light, Malak. And...I am sorry I started you down this path. But you...chose to continue down it," Revan reminded him as he struggled to get up.

"I suppose...I suppose you speak the truth. I alone must accept responsibility for my fate," Malak admitted. "I wanted to be Master of the Sith and ruler of the galaxy, but that destiny was not mine, Revan. It might have been yours, perhaps...but never mine. Savior, conqueror, hero, villain. You are all things, Revan, and yet you are nothing. In the end you belong to neither the light, nor the darkness," Malak said, seeing a clearer view of Revan's destiny than Revan had himself. "You will forever stand alone. And in the end, as darkness takes me..." he paused, and Revan saw the life leave his eyes.

"I am nothing."

Malak looked at his old friend one last time and then collapsed forward onto the deck with a dull thud, Revan feeling a dead hollowness fill him as Malak's death became apparent through the Force. Pushing back his hood, he crawled beside his friend and silently lowered a hand to his face, closing his eyes forever.

He felt numb as he realized that he was staring down at the lifeless body of the man who was once his lifelong companion. "I'm sorry it had to end like this, Malak," he said truthfully. "I never wanted to have to kill my best friend."

He did not regret killing Malak, nor did he feel guilty. He still hated Malak for ruining his life and taking Bastila, and he would not let go of that hatred for a long time. Some betrayals were too deep to forgive, and Revan considered this one of them. Malak had been his best and only true friend, and in the blink of an eye had tried to take his comrade's life, all for the sake of an ideal. They had become bitter enemies from that day forward, and Revan could not deny some satisfaction in finally killing the man who had taken everything from him.

Standing unsteadily on knees that threatened to give way any moment, Revan stumbled over to where his lightsaber lay discarded and fumbled with it a moment before successfully clasping it onto his belt opposite his bronze one. He retrieved Malak's lightsaber as well, attaching it to his belt next to one of his blades and then staggered dizzily out of the room, down the long hallway and back into the command center where Bastila, Jolee and Juhani were, where gravity finally took its toll and pulled him down. He crashed to the floor as his friends leapt up to aid him, the Star Forge rocking with explosions as they did so. The three friends hauled him up, practically carrying him as they struggled out of the command center and down the corridors that would lead them to the elevator.

"Did you...help the Republic?" Revan asked as they half-carried, half-dragged into the elevator.

"Do you feel the explosions, idiot? Of course I did! This place is coming down around our ears!" Bastila snapped. "And you went and got yourself killed while I did it!"

Revan smiled weakly and felt some of the pain lessen as both Jolee and Juhani tried to heal him the best they could. He mumbled his thanks as they ushered him out of the elevator and hurried as best they could through Deck 2 to the next elevator.

"Damn this infernal place!" Bastila cursed. "Who in the hell came up with the idea of having elevators only go up or down one worthless level?"

Revan could only chuckle feebly at the way she chose to vent her frustration, resorting to using mostly child-friendly speech, even when livid. The going was tough, and it took them a solid five minutes to get all the way through Deck 2 and to the elevator, the four of them nearly collapsing as they entered the lift.

"One...more," Revan tried to encourage but was cut off by a death glare from the woman he loved.

"You speak, and _I'll_ kill you," she threatened.

As they stepped out onto the floor of Deck 1, the explosions began to come more frequently, slowing their progress exponentially. Twice, Revan was dropped as the space station shuddered under the barrage of the Republic fleet. It seemed like ages later that they finally made it through the final door to the hangar, and Revan was never as glad to see all of his friends waiting outside of the **_Ebon Hawk_** than he was at that moment.

"What happened?" Carth yelled over the explosions as they drew nearer. "Is Malak dead?"

"He's dead...there was no way..." Revan muttered almost incoherently as they all piled into the ship. "Need...to go...now."

"On it!" Carth barked and took off for the cockpit.

Bastila dragged Revan to the med bay and laid him down on the table, working furiously at the straps of his armor.

"Don't worry...I'm not dying any time soon sweetheart."

"Don't call me that," she snapped, but with a gentle tone as she continued to remove his armor. His breastplate was gone now, and she grabbed the edges of the circular hole that marked where Malak's lightsaber had been, ripping the material away. "I _am_ going to kill you," she muttered.

She received no reply and frantically looked at his face. His eyes were half-opened, the whites showing, the irises rolled back into his head. Bordering on panic, she quickly felt for his pulse and was monumentally relieved to find it there, albeit throbbing weakly. The ship shuddered under another explosion and she struggled to keep her balance and keep Revan from rolling off of the table. Jolee entered at that moment and saw her predicament, coming over to where she was and hauling the unconscious man back onto the medical table.

"Go," he said, seeing her need to know what was going on. "I'll watch after him."

- - -

"Carth!"

The Republic pilot turned to see Bastila trying to get into the cockpit, staggering against the walls from the explosions that rocked the ship.

"The Star Forge is breaking up!" he yelled back as she slid into the co-pilot's seat. "The explosion's right on our asses! This is gonna be tight!"

Carth's face was drawn tightly, his every ounce of concentration directed towards getting them out of this alive and hopefully in one piece. He was pushing the **_Ebon Hawk_** to her limits to avoid the explosions behind them as the Star Forge began to implode, dodging debris from the space battle and chunks of the space station that came screaming past. The ship began to shudder violently, and Carth closed his eyes as the ball of flame engulfed them from behind.

- - -

"We've done it, Vandar!" Admiral Dodonna said with triumph as she and numerous others watched the Star Forge go up in a blaze, the explosion vibrating their ships, far away as they were.

"Yes, but what of our friends?" Vandar said, turning away from the sight. What sacrifice had they made to defeat the Sith? How many young lives would be lost this day?

"Sir, look! There!" a young soldier yelled, pointing at a tiny blip on the screen he was watching. "Isn't that the **_Ebon Hawk_**?"

"Hail them!" Vandar ordered, hoping that the Private was right. Admiral Dodonna gave a curt nod and another man sent out the hail, bringing up the view screen as he did so. For long, tense seconds nothing happened. Then, finally, Carth's voice broke through the static.

"Ad..ral...Do...is that you?"

"Carth! It's good to hear your voice!" Dodonna said, feeling the relief of everyone on the command deck. Ever since Vandar had come aboard and told them of the crew of the **_Ebon Hawk_**, including Revan, her entire staff had taken a personal liking to the motley group of friends.

"We're hard to kill, Admiral," Carth replied, activating his end of the view screen. His image became visible and he grinned. "I see that you're all happy to see me."

"Lost, we though you were," Vandar replied. "We believed the explosion had engulfed you. An understatement is whatglad is."

"Everybody's all right except Revan," Carth told him. "Malak stabbed him with his lightsaber, Bastila tells me, and he needs medical attention fast. Can we dock with you?"

"You don't have to ask, Carth," Dodonna said, giving an order to open the docking hatch to accept the **_Ebon Hawk_**. "How far away are you?"

"Staring down your paint job, Admiral."

"Dock already! We've got a kolto tank with Revan's name on it." She turned to the medical personnel that she had called to the bridge. "Bring the Jedi Revan aboard immediately and give him the best treatment we've got."

"Sir!" the medical doctors replied in unison, running off to complete their task. Forn Dodonna turned back to the image of Carth Onasi. "We'll meet you inside the docking bay. Dodonna out."

The view screen switched off and Dodonna turned quickly, making it to the docking bay as swiftly as the chaos aboard her ship would allow. She witnessed the medical personnel carrying Revan to the med bay and the woman she recognized as Padawan Bastila Shan following with a concerned look on her pretty face. The Admiral smiled as she recognized that look. Carth stepped out into the room, followed by a dark-skinned old man, a Cathar, a Twi'lek, a Wookiee, an assassination droid and an astromech droid.

"Carth! We're about one hour from landing back on the planet below. Make yourself as at home as possible."

- - -

Bastila sat in front of the kolto tank that Revan was in for the second week in a row, studying his floating form for the hundredth time. He hadn't so much as twitched a finger since they had placed him in the tank and she was growing restless without being able to see him _alive_ and walking around. Something beeped loudly and she jumped, glad at that moment that he wasn't awake to see her overreaction. A red light was flashing on the console across from the tank and she hoped that that wasn't anything bad. Nothing happened to Revan's tank, however, and she sighed. Her stomach growled and reminded her that she had yet to eat today. Getting up slowly, she left Revan alone and wandered to the mess hall to appease her body's hunger.

It would be another two weeks before the doctors would take him out of the kolto tank and move him to a room to be kept under their supervision. The lightsaber wound had done more damage than originally thought, and his body was having a hard time recovering, even with the kolto treatments. His other injuries did not help, and to make matters worse, he contracted a high fever once confined to a bed and was sick for another week.

A month and a half after the destruction of the Star Forge, Revan finally awoke. The first thing he saw was the ceiling, the second was one of the doctors hovering over his bedside.

"You're awake," the doctor said with some surprise.

"No, I'm dead," Revan replied sarcastically. "You're seeing my ghost. How long have I been under?"

"A month and a half."

"A month and a –" Revan groaned. "Where am I?"

"You're currently orbiting Rakata Prime in the medical wing of **_The Watchman_**, commanding officer, Admiral Forn Dodonna. You've been – what are you doing?"

Revan had been sitting up and removing the sheets from himself as the doctor had been speaking. "I'm leaving," he answered.

"No you're not," the doctor shot back, standing and blocking Revan's way. "You haven't been cleared."

"Well that's too bad," Revan countered. "Get out of my way."

"If you insist on trying to leave, I will be forced to call security."

"If you want your entire crew to end up like me, then by all means, be my guest. Move. _Now_," he growled. The doctor didn't budge and Revan sighed. He had to give the woman credit; she wasn't intimidated in the least by him.

"Okay," he said, trying a new approach. "Can I at least go into the refresher and wash myself?"

"No," she replied.

"What? Why not?"

"Because that dressing has to be removed and replaced, and I don't want you opening the wound again. I have to come with you."

"You're telling me that I have to be bathed. By you?" Revan asked incredulously.

"Yes," she said, nodding. "Please," she added at his look. "I've seen all you've got to offer already."

Revan raised his eyebrows and she shrugged. "How many times do you think I've had to change that dressing and bathe you while you've been in a coma?"

"You don't have staff for that? Wait, I think it's better that only _you_ have seen me naked. Okay, how about this: You can do the upper body, and I'll handle the lower, okay?"

"If it makes you feel better."

"It does," he replied as he was led into the refresher and the doctor turned on the shower.

"Lift your arms," she ordered and he obeyed. She began to unravel the dressing that bound his wound and tossed the soiled bandage in a marked trash can. "Sit there please."

Revan stepped into the shower and sat on the outcropping that she had indicated, feeling the warm water splash against his uninjured side and wet his skin, soaking through the long underwear that he wore as an undergarment.

"Can I at least know the name of the woman who is about to bathe me like I'm an invalid?" he inquired.

She gave him a look of practiced patience. "Do you need to know? It's not like you're going to see me ever again. And you're not available, I know that much."

He raised an eyebrow for the second time.

"Bastila Shan? She's been here quite a lot. And I've seen it hundreds of times before. I know the kind of look she's got – the one that says 'That's my lover or husband in that tank.'"

Revan couldn't help a smile. "I'm sure she's going to finish what Malak tried to do."

"Kill you?" the doctor asked as she grabbed a washcloth, wetted it and lathered soap on it. "She looks like the type. Has a temper, doesn't she?"

"Oh yes."

The doctor smiled. "I thought so. I'll venture to guess that she's stubborn as hell too."

"We both share that aspect," Revan answered, eyeing the washcloth with distaste as she applied some chemical to it. "What are you doing?"

"Disinfectant, don't worry. This will sting, so please try not to jump."

"Oka –" he hissed and contracted his stomach muscles as far away from her hand as they would go. "You're not kidding," he grunted.

"Just try and relax. Don't make my job difficult, or I won't make you comfortable."

Revan closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tiles of the shower, letting the doctor clean and inspect his wound. She soon moved on to other areas, moving quickly and efficiently to clean his upper body. He tensed suddenly, and the doctor looked up. His green eyes were locked on something behind her and he had a semi-worried but somewhat amused look on his face.

"This is not what it looks like, I promise," he said with an undertone of laughter. "I don't even know her name. And she's fully dressed. I work faster than that."

The doctor turned and saw the shocked face of one Bastila Shan as she stood in the doorway, her hand on the doorpost.

"Interesting that you should walk in right now. Would you like to take over? I have other things to do than bathing him," she said, offering Bastila the washcloth. The female Jedi looked down at it for a while, then stepped forward and took it.

"Is this really necessary?" she asked the doctor.

"For him, yes. I don't trust him not to do something to reopen or tear the wound. I'm sure you understand."

Bastila glanced at Revan. "Yes," she replied in a pointed tone, "I do. Is there anything specific I need to do?"

"Just wash his head, back and the rest of his stomach. I've already tried to suffocate him and washed his chest and arms. He wants to do the lower body himself, but he might change his mind now that you're here," the doctor said as she walked out of the refresher. "I'll be back to dress that wound. Don't let him wander off," she called back.

"Oh I won't," Bastila murmured as she sat on the edge of the bathtub. "How are you feeling?"

Revan gave a half-smile. "Can you get me that toothbrush and toothpaste?" he asked first and waited until she had done so to answer. "I can't tell you. If this is bad, then bad. If it's good, then good."

Taking the toothbrush and toothpaste back once he was done, she sat back down. She understood that he meant he had been out for so long, he wasn't sure if he was in the nearly done phase of pain or the just getting started stage.

"If you whine, I'm kicking you into space."

Revan snorted and winced. "Thanks love. I really appreciate the sentiment."

"I sincerely hope you're not the kind of man who makes up ridiculous nicknames for whatever woman you are with," Bastila said as she re-soaked the washcloth and lathered it up again.

"I stick to the basics," he answered with a smile. "Sweetheart, baby, honey, love, babe, dear...pretty much it."

"Good. I don't want to suddenly gain a horribly embarrassing moniker."

"Unless you get me to randomly say something while we're in bed, it shouldn't happen."

She stopped and stared at him.

"Hey, it's going to happen eventually. Like I said earlier, I work fast."

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Bastila replied. "I love you, but..." she trailed, not really knowing what she wanted to say.

"I know. I was just kidding, Bas. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do. I promise."

She smiled gratefully at him and placed the washcloth gently on his stomach, rubbing lightly and carefully avoiding the not-quite-healed scar on his left side. He watched her do this and felt strangely touched by the care that she showed him. She moved to his back and he rested his forehead against the cool tile as she worked.

Bastila took his body in with a sense of awe, not because of his flat, firm stomach, his strong chest, his well defined arms, his powerful shoulders or his broad, toned back. She had seen all of this before, and did not pay it any heed at the moment. What surprised her were the numerous scars that covered his body, more so than she had anticipated. Most had faded, many were still easily visible, some were raised, some deep divots, all appearing painful. This did not detract from his attractiveness in Bastila's eyes; rather, it made him appear more real, more tangible and vulnerable to a certain extent, but also stronger and more solid. He had suffered through so much already and withstood it, and he would continue to do so – that was what his body told her.

"Do they bother you?" he asked quietly. Bastila noticed that she had stopped washing him and knew that he had realized she was staring.

"Should they?"

He turned to look at her with a confused light in his eyes and she could tell he didn't know how to answer that.

"No, they don't bother me," she said, answering his question. Revan looked relieved and grateful as he turned back around to let her finish his back. Bastila dropped the washcloth in the tub when she was done and grabbed a bottle of shampoo, squeezing some onto her hands.

"Turn back around. I have to wash your hair," she told him.

"My favorite part," he said. "Be gentle. You've got nails."

She rolled her eyes and placed her palms on the top of his head, rubbing and getting a good lather first. She used her nails to gently work the lather in and get the soap to his scalp, moving all the way around his head before pausing.

"This will feel good, I promise," she said. Before he had a chance to reply, she put her hands back into his hair and began to vigorously scrub, using her nails to her advantage. Such was the pace and the force with which she scrubbed his head that she was done in about fifteen seconds. The result was a nearly comatose Revan.

"Damn...that was incredible. Do it again..."

"No, your head is clean."

"Rub it then? Please? The odds of me getting you to do this often are slim, I can tell," Revan pleaded.

"Oh fine. But only because you're hurt."

She gently worked her finger into his thick dark hair and began to rub in soothing movements, massaging his scalp. Bastila grabbed the shower nozzle and sprayed his head with water to wash to soap out when she had finished.

"You are an incredible woman," Revan said as she placed the showerhead back.

"I know," she said with an almost convincing air of seriousness. He grinned and she couldn't help but smile as well.

"I love it when you smile," he said. "It makes you even more beautiful."

"Such a charmer," Bastila replied, shaking her head and getting ready to walk out.

"Come here," he said indignantly. "I don't get to kiss you?"

She eyed him from the doorway. "You are wet. I do not want to get wet."

"That's harsh."

She smiled. "I'll wait in your room for the doctor to come back, all right? I have to keep an eye on you anyway."

He chuckled as she exited the refresher and left him to finish washing himself.

"That woman is something else," he murmured.

* * *

Lyrics for Chapter Four 

**"Chapter Four" **

(Give me your hand,  
blood is spilt and man will follow  
infernal man, punishment too great to bear)  
Conceived and born was one of light  
Rain and dark, the other born black night

Raise your head and taste the courage  
(the one of light)  
Fall from grace, unholy night (in this case, knight)

I've come here to kill you,  
won't leave until you've died  
Murder born of vengeance,  
I closed my brothers eyes tonight...

_Repeat from the beginning_

It's cold tonight as the clouds turn grey  
and from my hands to my brothers grave  
You took his side, you took his gift,  
feel the power of a fallen man,  
crestfallen man...

Far away in this land I must go,  
out of the site of the One.  
A punishment sent from his hand  
a hardship that no one should know  
Now go out of the site of the One,  
away in this land you must go.

Where has he gone? What have you done?  
A voice commands from high above this earth.  
From the soil his blood cries out to me  
Murder, liar, vengeance, deceit.

Far away in this land I must go,  
out of the site of the One.  
A punishment sent from his hand  
a hardship that no one should know  
Now go out of the site of the One,  
away in this land you must go.  
_Fade out_

Don't take the lyrics exactly as they stand, make them more general. I think it applies to Revan and Malak, and then Revan's disappearance.


End file.
